


a hand to hold onto

by onemilliongoldstars



Series: a hand to hold onto [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, just so so sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 80,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemilliongoldstars/pseuds/onemilliongoldstars
Summary: When she is suddenly appointed the guardian of her sister's three children, Lexa -flustered and completely inexperienced- has to find somebody to rent the spare room in their house. Enter Clarke, a ramshackle, kind hearted pediatric resident who immediately becomes the heart of their small household. Sometimes family can be found in the most unexpected places. 
ft. three sweet but exasperating children, stressed out mess Lexa and hopeless romantic Clarke.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is basically totally finished and I've just been sitting on it for quite some time because it's so near to my heart.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

She wakes to laughter, voices shrieking distantly and the mindless babble of the television floating in through her cracked bedroom door. Slowly, groaning as she does so, she stretches a hand out from beneath the lump of the comforter and gropes for her phone on the nightstand. Blind fingers touch the corner of her radio, the discarded notes from yesterday's meetings before hooking around her glass of water. She jerks away too late, shooting from the bed as the glass topples to the side and empties its contents down the side of her nightstand and over her notes.

"Fuck!" She launches herself from the bed, grabbing at her notes pulling up her baggy pyjama shirt to dab at them ineffectively. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You're not supposed to use that word Aunty Lexa." The voice grabs her attention and she turns to see her niece stood in the doorway, dark hair rumpled, still in her pyjamas and clutching the ear of her stuffed bunny rabbit.

"Miya, what are you doing here?" She discards her notes, mentally adding the rewrites to her list of things to do for the day.

"We live here now Aunty Lexa, remember?" Miya is quiet, her voice soft as ever and her thumb slides into her mouth as she watches Lexa stretch up, running her hands through her hair and casting about for her phone.

"Yes Miya, I remember- have you seen my phone?"

"You left it downstairs," Miya's thumb slots straight back into her mouth the moment her words are done and she trots out of the room as Lexa rubs at her bleary eyes, groaning.

Her bedroom is a dump, clothes tossed about haphazardly and she can feel the stress of the mess building, mounting around her shoulders along with everything else and she sighs, rubbing at her temples and trying to remember the breathing exercises she had mastered at the yoga classes that seem like they were months away. She piles her hair up onto her head, though a hair tie escapes her so she fixes it with a stray colouring pencil. Her sports leggings are tugged on, in the vague hope that she will be able to work out today, and she grabs an old college sweater that smells vaguely like baby wipes.

The noise gets louder as she goes downstairs, dodging the toys strewn haphazardly along the staircase, and her eyes widen when she hears the scream from the living room, rushing the left few steps to pause in the doorway.

Aden is on top of Miya, wrestling her to the ground and Miya is screaming, wriggling to get out from under him. The television burbles on in the background and the baby is watching from her play mat, giggling and clapping her hands in delight.

"Aden!" Lexa launches herself forwards, her hands wrapping around Aden's waist and yanking him off his sister, holding tight to his arm. "What are you doing?! She's six years younger than you! And she's your _sister_!"

"We were only playing Aunty Lexa," Miya leans up from the floor, watching her with an anxious gaze and Lexa blinks, letting Aden go when she realises he isn't struggling against her grip.

"I was just tickling her," Aden promises, sincerely and she swallows, looking between the two kids before nodding at last.

"Right... sorry," She steps back, watching as Aden offers Miya a hand up and settling onto the couch to stare unseeingly at the cartoons that flicker back and forth across the screen.

Aden edges closer, sitting tentatively beside her. "Did you sleep well, Aunty Lexa?"

So polite. Lexa smiles despite herself and reaches over to ruffle his hair gently, "Yes, thank you Aden. Did you?"

Aden nods and Miya slips a few steps closer to them, her bunny clutched to her chest. Lexa bends down to talk to her.

"How about you, Miya? Did you sleep okay?" The little girl shakes her head around her thumb, which is stuck firmly between her lips and Lexa frowns. "No? Why not?"

The thumb pops out and Lexa's heart aches at the words, "Mr Bunny had nightmares."

"Did he?" Lexa looks at the stuffed toy, taking in the unseeing button eyes and the stitched mouth, stretching up into a smile. "Well, Mr. Bunny had better have an early night tonight then, hmm?"

Miya frowns, but nods reluctantly, squeezing her bunny tighter and plopping down in front of Aden's legs to watch the television.

Aden’s eyes flicker to Lexa, darting away again to look down at his sister. "Hey, Miya can I talk to Mr. Bunny for a sec?"

Miya nods, twisting so that she can stare at her brother adoringly as he sits the bunny in his lap and talks very seriously to him.

"Hi Mr. Bunny, it's me, Aden." He reaches out to shake a little stuffed limb and Miya giggles happily. "I just wanted to make sure you knew," Aden continues, "That I'm just across the hall from Miya and I'm a brave warrior, so I can look after both of you, okay? There's nothing to be scared of."

He makes the bunny nod, the little ears flopping about madly and then nods at the toy very seriously before passing it back down to where tiny hands are waiting, outstretched and Miya clutches the bunny to her chest, kissing him on the nose before clambering up, over the couch and settling into Aden's lap.

Lexa watches them with a sort of awe - an amazement that she can't quite reign in - and when Aden flashes her a small, easy smile she feels a flood of affection rush through her.

"Good job, kid," She stands hurriedly, making her way to the baby, who's tired of her toys and is starting to fuss, "Have either of you seen my- oh my _god_ who gave Tris my phone?!"

Tris is currently sucking on the edge of her phone and she darts forwards, grabbing it from Tris's hands and scooping the baby into her arms, peering at her anxiously. Her fingers press Tris's mouth open and she squints, raising Tris up to press her chest to her ear and listen to her steady breathing. The baby giggles, placing her hands on Lexa's hair and kicking her legs gleefully and Lexa finally places her back on her hip, staring at the toddler closely even as she addresses her siblings.

"What were you two _thinking_?"

"She wanted to play a game on it," Aden explains, frowning, "She likes the colours."

"She could have choked on something!" Lexa's eyes snap to the boy when she's finally satisfied that Tris is safe. "You know better, Aden."

"Sorry," His lips twist down and Miya curls into his arms, her lower lip trembling.

Lexa sighs and hitches the baby further up into her arms. "Come on... let's get you guys some breakfast."

They follow her into the kitchen like a trail of obedient ducklings and she encourages them around the small, comfortable breakfast table. They seem to have found their spots already, though they've only been in the house a few months; Aden grabs bowls and cutlery and sits in the place closest to the archway where the kitchen opens up to the more formal, dining room, while Miya slides into the seat by the doorway, as if preparing to make a quick getaway. Lexa places Tris gently into the highchair, glad to see that her sandy hair is still caught in two tiny braids and fixing a bib around her neck.

Aden rises to help her gather apples and bananas, cereal and juice and she feels another stab of guilt for scolding him, sighing as she distributes plastic cups to the kids and starts the coffee machine for herself. She watches from the corner of her eye as they pour cereal, eyes Aden helping his sister with the heavy milk carton as she takes the prepared porridge from the fridge and puts it into the microwave for Tris.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you," She says at last, quietly, but Aden and Miya still blink up at her in surprise. "Although you shouldn't have given her the phone, you do realise that don't you Aden? It's dangerous for a baby, she could have hurt herself so easily."

"Yes Aunty Lexa," Aden is sombre, but he meets her gaze steadily and when the microwave pings behind her she is happy that he understands.

"Good," Pulling out the bowl, she sets it in front of Tris with a spoon and eyes her as the toddler grabs at the plastic implement. "Okay now Tris, do you think you can do it without dropping it all over yourself?" As if to answer her question, Tris clumsily spoons up a mountain of porridge and proceeds to drop it on the floor. Miya and Aden giggle and she rolls her eyes, darting forwards to grab the spoon before Tris can start her repeat performance. "Nope, nope, guess not." She scrapes her chair closer to the toddler, "You know, you're one now," A dollop of porridge goes onto the spoon and she feeds Tris as she speaks, "You should have realised that the food goes _into_ your mouth."

Aden laughs again, crunching through his granola as Miya pushes hers around her bowl, pouting.

"What's wrong with your breakfast Miya?" She frowns, glancing at the girl as she feeds her sister. "You need to eat breakfast, it'll make you big and strong."

"I don't like it," Her lip juts out and Lexa worries at her lip with her teeth.

"Well what else would you like? We have all sorts... cornflakes or porridge or wholegrain toast..."

"I want Pop Tarts." Miya pushes away the bowl, pulling Mr. Bunny closer into her lap and playing with his soft ears. "Laura Goodwell from daycare says her parents always give her Pop Tarts."

"Then Laura Goodwell's parents must not like her very much if they're slowly poisoning her." Lexa slides the bowl back towards her. "Eat your granola."

"But..." Miya's lip trembles again and Lexa’s eyes widen in alarm as she jumps hurriedly out of her seat, dashing around the table to kneel by Miya's side.

"Miya, Miya baby don't cry." She takes one of Miya's hands from where they're wrapped around the stuffed toy. "It's not that bad, it's just granola."

"I don't _like it_!" She is almost wailing now, her voice sliding from a whine to a cry and Lexa looks to her brother and then to Tris, who is frowning at them, her lips tilting down and her brows pulling together.

"Now Miya listen to me," she tries to tilt Miya's head up from where it's pressed against her bunny's head. "Granola is very good for you! It'll keep you strong and healthy, don't you want that? Pop Tarts rot your teeth and they're proven to contain harmful chemicals and-" Behind her, Tris promptly bursts into tears and Lexa whirls around, reaching out for the baby with her free hand.

"No Tris, please don't cry." Her headache is forming behind her eyes again and she could almost weep with relief when Aden stands hurriedly and pulls Tris out of her highchair, holding her close and going to kneel at Miya’s other side.

“Hey, Mi look you're making Tris upset. Calm down a little, okay?”

Miya peers up at him through damp eyelashes, but her sobs quieten and turn to soft hiccups as she wipes her cheeks on her rabbit’s ears.

“That's better,” He smiles at her and passes Tris back over to Lexa, who cradles her close and stroke her hair until Tris is happy again. “Okay, now you have to eat your granola Miya.”

“But it tastes yucky.” Miya's voice is tremulous, her eyes wide with unshed tears, but Aden is firm.

“Remember what mom said. Aunty Lexa wants us to eat granola and we’re going to do what Aunty Lexa says.”

“O-okay,” Miya reaches out to drag the bowl back across the table, staring down at it in distaste and Aden grabs a banana and his knife.

“But this will make it much nicer Mi! Do you see it?” He waves the banana in front of her and her eyes follow it, entranced. “This is a magic banana, it came from Pop Tart land to say hello and make your breakfast all yummy.” He peels it and begins slicing small chunks into her bowl.

“Thank you, Aden.” Miya’s voice is very, very small and when she looks up nervously at Lexa, Lexa feels her heart break. “I'm sorry Aunty Lexa.”

“It's okay, Miya,” she reaches out with the arm that isn't holding the baby and pulls the girl into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You don't have to eat the granola, we have other things but just not Pop Tarts.”

“It’s okay,” Miya's voice is muffled, her face pressed against Lexa’s ribs, “Aden is right, momma said to be good.”

Lexa's heart clenches again  and she has to take a moment to heave in a shuddering breath, her arm tightening around the girl. She recognises a losing battle when she sees one.

“Fine, how about this? If you eat good and healthy breakfasts all week I'll buy Pop Tarts for next Sunday, okay?”

“Yay!”

She stands and deposits Tris back in the highchair, circling to grab her lukewarm coffee and continue feeding Tris.

“Right then, did you both remember that the new lady is moving in today? So you need to get your chores done early so that the house is tidy for her.” She spoons more of the porridge into Tris’s mouth.

“What's the new lady like, Aunty Lexa?” Miya is now happily engaged in her granola, fishing about in the bowl for pieces of magic banana to make the cereal go down.

“She's very nice.”

“She's a doctor?” Aden looks at her, taking a swig of juice. “That's what you said yesterday.”

“A medical resident,” Lexa corrects absently, reluctantly handing Tris the spoon when she grabs for it. “So she's training to be a doctor.”

“What does that mean?” Miya frowns, tilting her bowl a little to get to the milk and Lexa watches her distractedly as she answers.

“It means she's still practicing, and that she works long hours.” She fixes them both with a raised eyebrow. “And she's taking the room downstairs which means you need to be considerate when you come downstairs; walk softly and be quiet when you're watching TV and don't get up too early. Sometimes she will work at night so she'll want to sleep and she can't do that if you're being noisy.”

“We’ll be quiet Aunty Lexa.” Aden promises seriously and Miya nods.

“Like little mice.” Miya puts her finger to her lips and hushes them all and Tris copies her loudly, spraying porridge across her highchair and bib.

Lexa barely bats an eyelash, standing to grab the washcloth from the sink and speaking as she cleans Tris up. “And listen, if you guys don't like her just say the word okay? And she's gone.”

The ringing of the bell interrupts them and they all turn to look at the door, a moment of perplexed silence passing until Lexa tosses the washcloth into the sink and stands, frowning.

“Who is it Aunty Lexa?” Miya’s thumb has gone back into her mouth, anxious eyes peering at the door even as Aden stands and starts down the hallway.

“I don't know,” She pulls the baby up into her arms, cradling her on her hip and hurries after the boy. “Aden! Aden wait, let me open it.” But Aden has already eagerly reached for the doorknob and it swings open, spilling sunshine into the darkened hall and Lexa flinches a little, bringing her spare hand up to block the light.

“Hi!” The cheerful voice makes her blink and when her eyes finally focus her stomach drops when she spies Clarke Griffin at the the door.

She looks just as good as she did last week, all radiant blonde curls and blue eyes though today they fall around her face as opposed to being held back in a tight bun and she's wearing a soft jumper and jeans instead of her scrubs.

And Lexa definitely has baby drool on her shoulder and porridge in her hair.

“Clarke! Hello, you're early.” Miya has joined them at the door and is hidden behind Lexa's legs, peering out at the blonde curiously. “Kids this is Clarke, the lady I was just telling you about.”

“Yeah, I tried calling you actually. I was finished packing early and wanted to get out of my old place and over here as soon as possible. You didn't pick up.”

“No my phone’s-” She fumbles for a way to describe her phone sitting on the play mat covered in spit that isn't totally disgusting. “Not on me right now…”

“That's fine,” Clarke smiles and looks down at the children staring up at her. “And who are you guys? I don't think we've met.” She is grinning cheerily and Aden is the first to smile back.

“I'm Aden,” he holds out his hand and Clarke shakes his hand, biting back her amused smile. “It's very good to meet you, Miss Clarke.”

“Wow, you're so polite. How about you call me Clarke and I call you Aden, huh? Think that will work?”

Aden’s smile widens and he nods fiercely, still shaking Clarke’s hand until Lexa touches gently at his shoulder.

“This is Tris,” Lexa indicates to the baby in her arms and Clarke’s smile widens, her eyes and voice softening.

“Hi beautiful, you look like a perfect angel,” She lets Tris’s reaching hand touch at her face, before flinching when the toddler grabs at her hair and pulls.

“Tris!” Lexa pulls the baby’s hand back, “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Clarke takes the tiny hand in hers, laughing. “Maybe not a _perfect_ angel then, but we’ll still have fun.” She turns her attention down to Miya and the little girl huddles back into Lexa’s legs, cowering shyly away even as Lexa encourages her out.

“Come on Miya, say hello to Clarke.”

Miya eyes her worriedly, her thumb still stuck firmly in her mouth and Clarke crouches down to her level.

“Hey there,” she speaks quietly, but firmly, a welcoming smile on her face. “You sure look nice,” she reaches out to Miya and the little girl flinches back, but Clarke doesn't try to touch her and instead takes the tiny hand of Mr. Bunny and shakes it. “You know I think I have a friend of yours,” without looking away from Miya and the toy, she turns and rummages in one of the bags sat behind her on the porch, producing a small brown bear with a tweed hat and a bow tie. Miya's eyes widen and she slides out from behind Lexa's legs, watching as Clarke manipulates the bear into waving at her and whispering in her ear.

“He says his name is Walter.” She looks at Miya very seriously, “Do you think they know each other?”

Miya stares at her for a moment, considering, before saying. “Mr. Bunny says they're friends.”

“Really?” Clarke smiles at the revelation, “Well that's good because Walter has been quite lonely recently. Maybe you could take care of him for me, do you think?”

Miya nods and takes the bear with her outstretched hand, holding him closely to her chest before turning and hurrying off into the living room.

“Miya!” Lexa calls after her, frowning, but Clarke just shakes her head with a smile, rising back to her feet.

“It's okay, she's welcome to him.”

“You just keep stuffed animals in your bags with you?” Lexa cocks an eyebrow, passing Tris off to her brother before taking a bag from the front porch, welcoming Clarke inside.

“Perks of being a pediatric resident,” Clarke smiles wryly, grabbing the other bag and following her inside.

“Well it's useful to me,” Lexa leads her down the hall, “health care is ridiculously expensive and there are three of them.” She pushes open the first door on the right, beside the kitchen and holds it for Clarke to go before her, smiling when the girl thanks her.

The room is crowded with the boxes she has already had sent over. They'd arrived at 6:30pm, just as Lexa had been getting the kids their dinner and she had had to abandon her soup to let in Lincoln and his girlfriend’s brother, watching them anxiously as they had loaded in boxes and furniture from Lincoln’s pickup. The kids had watched in amazement from the living room door and Lexa had flitted between watching them and stirring the soup.

“I hope you like it.” She places the bag carefully next to the large double bed, “I know you didn't see the room before you signed the lease but if there's anything you want to change-”

“Hey Lexa, relax,” Clarke reaches out a hand, though she doesn't touch her, and smiles around at the room. “The place looks amazing, it's so big!”

Lexa nods, gazing around the room. “It used to be a study but… we need another paying tenant.” She laughs, but it's strained and tense and Clarke does her the courtesy of pretending not to notice.

“Well it's really great,” Clarke runs her fingers over the desk Lincoln had had to dismantle to bring through the doorframe. “Would the landlord care if I gave it a lick of paint?”

“No,” Lexa acquiesces, eyes catching the dark red walls, “I think he'd be grateful, he's not around much… If you don't mention it he might not even notice it.”

“Awesome!” Clarke beams, nodding her head in satisfaction.

“The bathrooms are upstairs, I can show you now if you want? Or would you rather we keep bringing your stuff in?”

Clarke shakes her head, “don't worry about it, you seem to have a lot on your plate right now. I'll settle myself in and then come back and say a proper hi to everyone- hey, are you going out tonight?”

Lexa almost laughs in her face, biting her lip and settling for a small, derisive snort. “Going _out?_ Oh no, no risk of that.”

“Good,” Clarke beams, “I was thinking we could have a family night in?” When Lexa's brows shoot up at the words Clarke hurries to explain herself, “I mean, y'know, house night in. I want the kids to feel comfortable around me, this is their home.”

“Oh,” her cheeks flush with pleasure at the words, “well we eat pretty early for bed time, is that okay?”

“That's great, I'm going to be exhausted after all of this!”

“I'll bet, I'll get the kids to keep out of your way…”

“No, no!” Clarke begins fumbling through a few boxes, inspecting their insides curiously. “Let them on in, it'll be fun.”

“Alright,” she's unconvinced, stepping towards Clarke door to give her a half wave. “Ask if you need anything.”

“I will! Thanks!” Clarke's cheerful response follows her from the room.

\---

She spends most of the morning cleaning. She ushers the kids to get dressed and wash their faces, changes Tris and sets her to play with her brother watching her and Miya curls up on the sofa, sucking her thumb and playing a complicated game with her soft toys.

The laundry is never ending and she rolls up her sleeves and sets the first load going while she cleans the bathroom until it shines. Elbow deep in the toilet she remembers the notes she has to rewrite and the depositions she has to read through by the next day and shudders out a breath. The room Miya shares with Tris is blissfully tidy and Lexa silently thanks the little girl for picking up her own neat habits. Aden’s room is less so, but she figures he's old enough to tidy it himself and instead strips all of their beds and sets that aside as another load of laundry to do before remaking them all in the clean sets.

She exhausted by the time lunch runs around and she only has the energy to trail downstairs to make sandwiches for each of the kids, calling them into the kitchen.

“Aden, go and ask Clarke if she wants a sandwich?” She asks after a moment of thought and he bounces away before returning.

“She says yes, ham and cheese please.”

“I can do that,” She slaps together another sandwich in a few moments and leaves it on a plate on the counter.

“Can we eat in front of the TV?” Aden asks, eagerly and she frowns.

“You've been watching it all morning, no come on, we're going to eat in the yard.” She supervises them all as they trail out of the backdoor, holding Tris closely and they settle in the sun together to eat.

“Aunty Lexa when will we go out for new school supplies?” Aden is chomping quickly through the apple Lexa had given him. “I need a new backpack.”

“Um,” she thinks for a moment, counting down the days, “in a few weeks Aden, I promise. School is three weeks away anyway.”

“I don't want to go to school.” Miya carefully peels away the crust from her sandwich.

“Why not, baby?”

“I'm scared,” she pouts and Lexa shakes her head.

“You're going to have a great time in kindergarten Miya, I promise.”

When they’re done eating Aden and Miya jump up, passing a soccer ball back and forth and Lexa watches for a while as Aden tries to teach his little sister how to tackle, half an eye fixed on Tris. The little girl had been entrusted with the care of Mr. Bunny and is babbling to him quietly, pulling scraps of grass and a few stray flowers out of the lawn to pile up in his lap. Eventually she tires of her game and crawls across the grass to Lexa, dragging the teddy with her. She clambers into her lap and Lexa’s arms curl around her automatically as Tris snuggles into her, her eyes growing heavy in the warm sunlight. Miya has abandoned Aden for the rope swing-

(Lexa had angsted for weeks over it, had made Lincoln take every precaution to make sure it was structurally sound before allowing any of them on it, but Lincoln had assured her that it had probably been hanging from the large oak for as long as the house had been standing.)

\- and Aden is bouncing the ball on his feet and knees to keep it in the air. They are quiet, happily engaged in their own activities and Lexa sighs out a soft breath, the comforting weight of the baby sitting heavily in her lap.

“Hi,” Clarke’s soft voice startles her a little and she turns to see the girl settling next to her. She’s changed into shorts and an old, paint splattered shirt, shades pulling her hair back from her face and she’s carrying the plate Lexa had made her up. “Sorry I’m late for the party,” she keeps her voice down, eyes settling on the little one in Lexa’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Lexa smiles at her even as her gaze flickers back to Miya. “I thought they needed some fresh air.”

“Good call,” Clarke takes a bite from her sandwich, groaning softly in appreciation. “Isn’t there a big park a few blocks over? Great sandwich by the way, thanks for making it.”

“Yeah there is,” she strokes back the soft, downy hair on Tris’s head, “I don’t have the time to take them down there very often. And, uh, it’s okay. It’s just a sandwich.” A small smile quirks her lips, bemused.

“That’s understandable, three kids is a lot.” Clarke looks out at where Aden and Miya are playing. “They’re… your nieces and nephews, right?”

“Yes,” Lexa tightens her grip a little on Tris.

“How long have you been taking care of them?” Clarke isn’t looking at her, focused on tearing off pieces of her sandwich to pop into her mouth and Lexa is grateful not to have her eyes on her.

“A few months now. They’re good kids,” she kisses the top of Tris’s head, a flare of affection running through her, “raised well.”

“They are,” Clarke puts her empty plate to the side, turning her dazzling smile back on Lexa, “thanks for lunch,” she expects Clarke to stand and wander back to the house, but instead the blonde pulls her shades down and stretches out her bare legs. “I was starved, I hadn’t eaten today yet.”

“What?” Lexa frowns at her, “what about mbreakfast?”

Clarke lifts her shades just to eye Lexa strangely, “oh y’know, I just don’t get the chance a lot of the time. I’m not really a morning person.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Clarke.” Lexa scolds instinctively, flushing when she realises what she’s done. Clarke just smiles, shaking her head.

“I know, I’m not great at taking care of myself.” Her shades slide back onto her nose and Lexa laughs when she continues, “I’m a great doctor, promise.”

“I’m sure you are,” she responds, sincerely and opens her arms when Tris wriggles, her eyes blinking open only to scrunch up against the light. “Oh hi sleepyhead, good nap?” She sits Tris more carefully into her lap, nodding over to Clarke. “Look who’s with us? Our new friend Clarke, though you’re not allowed near her hair again.”

Clarke laughs loudly at that and Tris giggles at the sound, her hands reaching out to grab for Clarke. The blonde obligingly shifts closer, her hands catching one of Tris’s and she lets little fingers curl around her thumbs, smiling down at the baby.

“Oh no, I’m sure we can try again, huh Tris?”

But Tris’s attention has already been caught and she is peering around Clarke, her eyes lighting up, and in her excitement she almost topples herself out of Lexa’s lap. Lexa’s gaze follows hers and she lets out a soft “ _oh_ ” at the sight of the sleek grey cat winding his way through the garden towards them.

Clarke turns as well and she glances back at Lexa, “you have a cat?”

“No,” Lexa’s expression twist ruefully, “He’s the neighbours’ really but he seems to like our yard...” she trails off and gestures at the kids with a nod of her head. “But he’s not good with kids. Could you maybe?” She indicates to Tris in her lap and Clarke’s expression brightens.

“Of course!” She eagerly reaches out and takes Tris into her lap, cooing at her as Lexa holds a hand out for the cat, clicking her tongue to her teeth gently.

He notices her and saunters over, back arching and tail curling possessively as he rubs himself around Lexa’s lap and then nudges his head under her hand demandingly. She lets out a quiet laugh, scratching him obligingly behind the ears. “Hey, good to see you boy.”

Tris stretches out her hands, smiling wide and babbling and Clarke has enough sense to hold her back from touching him.

“Easy Tris,” Lexa catches one of her flailing hands, saying sternly, “remember what we talked about? Gently.” She nods and Tris copies her seriously, her little lips pursed in thought. “Okay,” Clarke edges the toddler a bit closer and Lexa keeps a hold of her hand, drawing it down to run along his silky coat.

The cat is still blissed out from Lexa’s scratching, but he notices the alien touch and his fur bristles a little, even as Lexa soothes him. Tris watches very seriously and when Lexa lets go of her hand she continues stroking him with a gentle touch until the cat has all but relaxed again.

“Kitty!” Miya’s excited shout and pounding footsteps are enough to spook him and he darts out of reach, running for the neighbour’s yard as Miya comes to a halt a few paces away, staring after him aghast.

“Hey, it’s okay Miya,” Lexa beckons her closer, until Miya has settled unhappily into her lap, “he was just frightened.”

“I’m sorry Aunty Lexa,” Miys sighs softly, burrowing into Lexa’s shoulder as her aunt curls her arms around her. “I didn’t mean to scare him.”

“He’s a big boy,” Clarke runs a hand through soft, dark hair tenderly, “he’ll be okay Miya.”

“You think so?” Miya’s large, dark eyes stare up at her expectantly and Clarke nods.

“I know so.”

Lexa feels something in her heart soften when Miya settles back into her lap, nodding happily. Tris curls up into Clarke's embrace as Aden lounges back in the grass beside them. She watches Clarke smooth a soothing hand down Tris’s head and over her back as the little girl’s fist slots into her mouth to be sucked, and smiles. Something is changing, but for the first time in months she feels peaceful.

 

**

 


	2. August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your amazing comments! I'm going to try to keep my updates weekly at the latest!
> 
> (also for those of you who asked, yes I do make the collages and I do have one for each chapter!)

_August_

Lexa learns several things about her new housemate Clarke Griffin over the next two weeks.

One is that Clarke is a very bad cook.

Lexa is bone weary from her day, barely able to keep her eyes open and Clarke, spotting her through the open door to her bedroom, leans up from the box she’s unpacking and calls her over.

“Yes?” Lexa tries to smile at their new occupant, hesitating in the doorway to frown at the haphazard collection of stuff littering the bedroom. “How’s your unpacking going?”

“Great!” Clarke beams, throwing her arm out in a wide arc to gesture to the messy room. “I really feel like I’m getting somewhere.”

“Yeah it looks… good.” Lexa’s voice is stilted, the lie thinly veiled and Clarke pushes back the strand of hair falling in front of her face.

“What are you up to?”

“Well,” Lexa checks her watch, frowning. “It’s going on six, I should really get started on dinner, but I need to hop in the shower- if you don’t need it?”

“Why don’t you let me do it?” Clarke suggests, one hand settling onto her hip. “You take a shower and I’ll get us all some dinner.”

“All of us?” Lexa blinks at her, startled and fumbles through her words. “I really can’t ask you to do that Clarke, the kids aren’t your responsibility-”

“It’s just dinner Lexa!” Clarke laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not asking to _adopt_ one of them.”

“Still,” Lexa hesitates in the doorway anxiously, “it’s a lot of work Clarke, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Clarke beams at her, stepping around the minefield of untouched boxes to usher Lexa out into the hallway. “Anyway, I could use a break from sorting all of my shit- oops!” She glances guiltily round and smiles at Lexa, “I mean stuff.”

“Well, okay,” Lexa runs a hand through her hair, “Are you sure you’re okay to keep an eye on the kids while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” the collar of Clarke’s oversized t shirt slips down over her shoulder and Clarke shrugs it back in place, “piece of cake.”

“Okay well,” Lexa lingers in the hallway as Clarke turns for the kitchen, “there are some pieces of chicken in the freezer if you want them… and one of Tris’s meals as well if it’s going to require too much chewing! And Aden doesn’t eat sweetcorn, and Miya doesn’t eat mushrooms.”

“Chicken, mushy food, mushrooms and sweetcorn,” Clarke turns back to give her a rueful smile, “would you chill out? I can handle this, I’m not _entirely_ stupid, I am studying to be a doctor you know.” Clarke offers her a wink and Lexa feels the tension drain out of her shoulders.

“Yeah, I know. Okay.” She clenches her fists, her feet feel as if they’re stuck to the floor and it takes all of her willpower to shuffle away down the corridor. “Thank you Clarke.”

Clarke offers her an easy wave and smile and as she starts upstairs Lexa can hear the reassuring clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen.

\---

Half an hour later she pads downstairs, footsteps softened in only, fluffy slippers, still braiding her wet hair over her shoulder. An old sweater warms her from the slight evening chill and she is more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a heavy drowsiness sitting on her shoulders and soothing her skin. There is a delicious smell curling up from the kitchen, the sound of excited, chattering voices and the clink of pottery and glasses and she pauses at the bottom of the stairs to luxuriate in her final moment of freedom before Miya spots her from the kitchen door and beams at her.

“Aunty Lexa!”

“Hi,” she makes her way down the corridor to ruffle gently at Miya’s hair, “did you guys behave for Clarke?”

“Of course,” Miya is all sweetness, smiling widely and gathering the plates stacked on the kitchen table into her hands. “I’ll take these into the living room.”

“The living room?” Lexa’s brows furrow and she watches Miya scurry out, “careful! Don’t drop them…” when Miya disappears into the living room, Lexa turns back to frown at Clarke. “The living room?” She repeats, blankly and Clarke smiles, hitching Tris up where she is perched on her hip.

“Yeah,” there is a slight pink tinge to Clarke’s cheeks as she gestures to the four glasses on the table, “could you grab those for me?” As Lexa gathers the glasses into her arms she quirks her eyebrow at Clarke and the blonde smiles sheepishly. “It’s kind of late so I said we could watch a movie while we eat. That’s okay right?”

“I guess,” she hesitates, frowning at where Tris’s fingers curl around an errant strand of golden hair, “has the baby eaten? She’ll be messy, especially if the food is difficult to eat.”

“I already fed her, don’t worry.” Clarke bends and scoops up the jug of juice from the table, “Aden showed me where you kept her food.” They start into the living room and Lexa halts in the doorway, her expression falling when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Clarke gets the baby settled in her carry seat, cooing at her for a few moments before passing her a toy to play with. Miya is sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch and Aden is sprawled out on his stomach beside her. They are both sat on Aden’s comforter and Clarke sits more carefully onto Miya’s pink, flowery quilt beside them. Over their heads is stretched a sheet, balanced on standing lamps and the arm chair, which has been dragged away from her perfect spot beside the window to create a blanket fort. Between them are three open boxes of takeout pizza, which Miya and Aden are already reaching for eagerly.

“What happened to dinner?” She blinks at Clarke, dumbfounded and Clarke bites her lip, eyes flickering away in embarrassment, so Miya provides, helpfully.

“It was burnt.”

“To a _crisp_ ,” Aden adds, laughing and Clarke chances a guilty smile in her direction.

“I’m not the best cook?” She offers, at last, and then continues more optimistically. “At least the house is still standing!”

“Thank god,” Lexa purses her lips, looking between the figures sprawled out in a happy heap together. “I don’t think this is a good idea… we have a perfectly good table, or a couch at the very least.”

“Oh come on Aunty Lexa, it’s fun!” Aden smiles at her and Miya pats the spot on the comforter next to her, eyes widening hopefully.

“Sit next to me Aunty Lexa? I saved you a spot.” Clarke shuffles away a little, as if she hasn’t already spotted the place left open for her between the blonde and her small niece.

“I’m not sure,” she’s still uncertain, her eyes flickering between the sticky fingers reaching for more pizza and the comforters spread out on the floor but when Miya’s expression turns to heartbreak she cracks. “Fine,” her knees click as she lowers herself down carefully between the two, “but you’d better be careful, I’m not washing these comforters again.”

“They will be Lexa, don’t worry,” Clarke is beaming at her and happily takes the glasses from her hands.

Miya’s little head leans against Lexa’s arm for a moment and she caves, curling the girl in for a small hug and brushing her fingers across Miya’s hair, smoothing it down. “What are we watching?”

Miya’s thumb drops from her mouth as she answers, excitedly, “Big Hero Six.”

“Oh yeah?” The name sounds familiar, but she’s drawing a blank, so she reaches out to start loading a plate up for Miya. “Sounds great.”

“We’ve watched it before, Aunty Lexa,” Miya giggles beside her, happily taking the plate in her hands, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lexa chooses to ignore the way that Miya starts methodically picking the mushrooms from her pizza. “Yeah, sure we have, it was good.”

Miya rolls her eyes at her, “don’t be _silly_ Aunty Lexa, you won’t remember it.”

“How dare you?” She places a hand to her chest in faux outrage, “of course I do!”

“You fell asleep after five minutes,” Aden inputs, dryly.

“You snored.” Miya raises her eyebrows pointedly and her expression is so serious that Lexa has to bite back a giggle.

“Oh really?” Clarke chooses this moment to throw back her head, laughter spilling from her mouth, shaking her shoulders.

“I did not!” Her cheeks are flushing, tingling with heat and she glances over at Clarke, “I don’t snore.”

“Oh I believe you Aunty Lexa,” Clarke leans around her to give Miya an exaggerated wink and the little girl attempts to copy her, though she blinks and her nose scrunches up tight with concentration.

\---

While Lexa is sure that Clarke must be brilliant- she is, after all, training to be a doctor- she is also exceptionally bad at taking care of herself. After the fifth morning of Clarke rushing out of the house with a wave, grabbing a cereal bar and an apple, Miya watches her go with a perplexed frown. Lexa is also frowning, sipping her coffee and wondering whether Clarke will get a break to eat at some point in the day, when the little girl looks back at her and places her elbows on the table, propping her head in her hands.

“Aunty Lexa?”

“Yes sweetheart?” Aden is upstairs brushing his teeth and Tris is happily occupied in her highchair, so she gestures Miya closer and pulls the girl up into her lap so that she can check on the pigtails fixed firmly into her dark hair.

“You said that breakfast is the most important meal of the day…”

“It is,” Lexa is distracted retying the dark blue bow in Miya’s left pigtail, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration as she pulls the loops out slightly.

“Then why doesn’t Clarke eat breakfast with us?”

Her fingers still and she hesitates, thinking on her words carefully before finally speaking. “Clarke is very busy, sometimes she doesn’t have time.”

“But don’t you think she _should_?” Miya is insistent and Lexa nods before realising that the little girl can’t see her.

“Yes, I do actually. But we can’t tell her what to do.”

“But you tell me what to do,” Miya points out and Lexa has to bite on her lip to stifle her giggle, attempting to gather her poker face as she nudges Miya off her knee.

“That’s because I’m looking after you, Miya. For your mom.”

Miya sobers, turning to look at her and Lexa takes the girl’s hands in hers, rubbing soothingly as Miya considers what she’s said. When she finally speaks, she is soft and sad, “so doesn’t Clarke have anyone to look after her?”

Lexa’s grip on Miya’s hands tightens a little, “no, I’m afraid grown ups are meant to look after themselves.”

“But Clarke doesn’t,” Miya glances back at the door anxiously.

“No,” a wry smile tilts her lips upwards. “I think Clarke gets distracted looking after other people at the hospital all day, so she forgets that she needs to look after herself too.”

Miya thinks on this for a few more moments and just as her sister is starting to fuss she asks, “can we help her, Aunty Lexa?”

“Of course,” her heart swells in her chest and when Miya smiles she abruptly sees so much of her sister in her that Lexa has to turn and scoop up the baby to hide the sparkle in her eyes.

\---

The next day Lexa draws a chair over to the counter for Miya to stand on and together they make Clarke a bagel with cream cheese and slide it into a paper bag with an apple and a bottle of water. Lexa writes a note in her neat, slanted script and helps Miya sign a wobbly M and a small heart and they thrust it into Clarke’s hands when she rushes out of the door later that morning.

Later, when Lexa is bent over her work on the dining room table, a plate of cookies and a coffee appear on the table next to her and she looks up to see Clarke, hair hanging wet from a shower and still wearing her fluffy bath robe over pink pyjamas, stood beside her with a smile.

“Thank you,” she reaches out to touch at the mug, staring at the blonde in astonishment, “you really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Clarke’s smile is like soft, evening sunlight, flooding in through an old curtain and Lexa is momentarily breathless at the sight, “but Miya didn’t write that note on her own, she can barely write her own name.”

“It was Miya’s idea,” she can feel her cheeks flushing and she glances away, swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, “she wanted to make you breakfast-”

“Hey, Lexa it’s okay. I was actually touched, that’s why I brought you this,” Clarke’s fingers settle on her shoulder and she can feel the warmth through her thin shirt. “So thank you. Don’t work too hard.”

She squeezes her hand before turning on her heel to disappear back into her room.

(Miya loses interest in making Clarke breakfast after a few days, but little brown bags are always waiting for her… and Lexa has a regular supply of cookies.)

\---

The house is quiet when Clarke swings open the door and she hesitates, pausing in the doorway to glance back out at where Lexa’s car sits on the driveway. It’s twenty past five, she and the kids should be long home by now but the usual sound of small, racing feet and hurried exclamations do not greet her.

Fingers poke into her ribs from behind, nudging her forwards and she twists to glare at Raven as Octavia slides past her and into the house.

“What’s the hold up Griffin?” Raven lifts an inquiring eyebrow.

“This place is so cute Clarke!” Octavia has paused by one of the pictures in the hallway, pointing at the baby picture of Aden, toothy grin and rumpled hair. “Rey look at this!” Raven paces closer to smile at the picture.

“Adorable, where are the rascals Clarke? Shouldn’t they be jumping all over us by now?”

“They’re children, not dogs.” Clarke reprimands her distractedly, swinging the door shut behind them and ushering her friends into the kitchen. “That’s the living room… my room is that door and then there’s the kitchen. You guys want a drink? Coffee?” They both nods eagerly and she clicks on the coffee machine as Raven sinks down into a seat to examine the kitchen with interest and Octavia peers at the schedules held by a magnet to the fridge door.

“Damn…” Octavia’s eyes grow wider, staring at the carefully colour coded blocks. “Somebody in this house really likes excel.”

“Yeah,” Clarke laughs affectionately, shaking her head at the grid. “Lexa likes things to be organised, especially with the kids going into school soon.”

“Lexa is… the aunt, right?” Raven props her chin against her hand, leaning her elbow on the table.

“That’s her, yeah.” Clarke taps at the grid, “then there’s Aden, Miya and Tris. About five years between each of them, give or take.”

“Lots of kids,” Raven’s brows furrow and Clarke hums softly in agreement.

“But you’re not on here?” Octavia slides in the chair next to Raven as Clarke busies herself pouring them coffee, adding cream to all and sugar to both hers and Raven’s before placing them on the table.

“No,” she can’t help the tender lilt of her voice as she explains. “Lexa wanted to add me, but my hours are never the same each week so there’s no point.”

“Cute,” Octavia smiles, looking around the kitchen with interest, “it’s so neat for three kids, I don’t think my apartment is half as clean as this and I have a Lincoln to tidy for me.”

“You know you don’t have boyfriends _just_ so they can clean up for you, right?” Raven rolls her eyes and Octavia smirks.

“Oh don’t worry, I use him for other things too.” She wiggles her eyebrows lewdly and Raven feigns gagging over the table just as Clarke’s eyes flicker up and she spots the two small figures in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey kids!” Her back instantly straightens and she fixes Miya and Aden with beaming smiles, watching as they hesitate.

“Hi Clarke,” Miya’s eyes dance to Raven and Octavia nervously, but Aden takes her hand gently and leads her across the threshold, coming to a stop a few paces away from the table.

“Hey Clarke.” Aden echoes and then offers a smile to Raven and Octavia, holding out a hand, “Hi, I’m Aden.”

“Hi Aden! My name’s Octavia,” the brunette reaches across to shake his hand enthusiastically.

Raven offers a fist in response and Aden takes a second to understand before bumping their fists together, laughing when she makes hers explode on collision. “Hey, I’m Raven.”

“And this is Miya,” Clarke opens out her arm and the little girl instantly scurries to her side, cuddling into her and watching the strangers a little nervously.

Her thumb goes to her mouth and she waves with the hand that’s clutching Mr. Bunny as Raven and Octavia offer her gentle greetings.

“Where’s Lexa?” Clarke looks over to Aden, curiously, “it was so quiet when we got in that I thought you might have been out.”

Aden hesitates, opening his mouth but it’s Miya who answers from where she’s pressed against Clarke’s side. “Aunty Lexa said we had to be good.”

“Good?” Clarke frowns, twisting to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“She said you had guests…” Aden’s eyes dart nervously to where Octavia and Raven are watching, “she said you wouldn’t want to be disturbed.”

Clarke lets out a soft, disgruntled sigh and rolls her eyes. She looks back at her friends and says, exasperated, “that is _just_ like her.”

Miya tugs on her arm and asks, in a small voice, “are we in trouble, Clarke?”

“No, of course not!” Her mouth falls open, dismayed, and she scoops Miya up to sit the little girl on her lap and hold her close, “no Miya, you never have to stay out of my way okay? This is your home, you can use it as much as you want, understand?” She looks back over at Aden expectantly and the boy nods sincerely.

“Hey kids,” Raven clears her throat awkwardly, standing, “have you got a football or a soccer ball or something? Maybe me and O could take you outside and play a few games, huh? While Clarke talks to your aunt.”

Aden nods eagerly and when Miya looks back at Clarke nervously, she tugs a strand of dark hair gently back behind the girl’s ear and reassures her. “You don't have to Miya, but Octavia and Raven are very nice. You’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Come on Miya!” Aden is already at the back door, grinning and Octavia holds out a hand and says, temptingly.

“Come on, me and you will be on a team and we’ll beat your brother!”

Miya beams at the idea and slides from Clarke’s lap, leaving Mr Bunny in her trustworthy hands before rushing after her brother. Clarke gives Octavia a grateful smile as she disappears and picks Mr Bunny up by the head to bring him upstairs with her.

She hesitates in the open doorway to Lexa’s bedroom. She’s never seen the girl’s bedroom before and she feels a twinge of guilt when she realises how small it is. There’s a double bed pushed against the back wall, a dresser across from it and an old wardrobe up against the left hand side. Along the wall closest to the bed sit piles of neatly stacked papers, bound into files and Lexa is sat on the bed, hair pulled up into a bun with fluffy strands escaping it. The baby monitor is on her nightstand and she has the cap of her red pen caught between her teeth as she marks her way through a file.

Clarke knocks softly on the door and Lexa’s head startles up in surprise, blinking at her as if refocusing for a second before her brows crease.

“Hey,” she puts her pen down, pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah I just-” she cuts herself off, eyes darting to the line of pen on Lexa’s cheek and smiles softly. “You have a little…” she gestures to her face and Lexa’s eyebrows shoot up and she grabs at her phone to peer at her reflection.

“Oh,” a blush creeps over Lexa’s cheeks and Clarke chuckles. “Sorry… I get distracted when I’m working.”

“It’s alright,” She steps carefully into the room, hesitating by the end of her bed, “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course,” Lexa settles her hands in her lap, watching expectantly as Clarke fiddles with her fingers.

“Why did you tell the kids they couldn’t come down while my friends were here?”

Lexa frowns, cocking her head curiously, “I assumed it was what you wanted.”

“No-” her words are cut off by the crackling sound of plaintive wails from the baby monitor and Lexa is immediately on her feet, Clarke following close at her heels and into the room Miya and Tris share.

It’s dark except for the nightlight in the corner and Clarke steps around the toys strewn across the floor to get to Tris’s crib, watching as Lexa scoops her into her arms and bounces her for a second before carrying her to the changing table.

“Why would you think I’d want that?” She demands, quietly and reaches out to take the dirty diaper that Lexa hands her, tying it up and tossing it into the trash.

“I’m sorry Clarke,” Lexa speaks as she cleans up the gurgling baby on the table and Clarke lets Tris’s flailing hands curl around her fingers and smiles when her face breaks out into a huge grin. “I was under the impression that you wouldn’t want to be disturbed.”

“But they’re kids Lexa and this is their home too- it’s _your_ home!”

“You didn’t sign up to live with three children,” Lexa says, simply and Clarke passes her the baby powder before she can ask for it. “I’m aware that this is an unusual situation- _intimately_ aware,” she laughs, soft and dry, sliding the new diaper under Tris to wrap around her. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’re sacrificing anything to live here.”

“Lexa,” Clarke’s hand presses over Lexa’s, stilling her efficient movements. “Living with you and the kids isn’t a _sacrifice_ in the slightest,” Tris babbles loudly, grasping fingers reaching out for Clarke and the blonde can’t help but smile, “look at that face,” she brushes her hand over Tris’s soft, downy hair and Lexa fastens the tabs on the diaper, “how could I possibly think this was a sacrifice?” She slides her hands under Tris’s shoulders to pull her into her arms, holding her on her hip and pressing a kiss to her forehead. The toddler replies with a sloppy kiss to her chin and Clarke laughs, looking over to where Lexa is smiling a little bashfully, wiping the surface down with a disinfectant.

“I suppose I underestimated you,” Lexa admits at last, chancing a glance at her. “I’m sorry.”

Clarke hesitates, rubbing a hand soothingly against Tris’s back. “It’s okay, thank you for thinking of me. Do you want to come downstairs? The kids are playing soccer with Raven and Octavia, it would probably be good if you met them.”

\---

“And Raven dribbles it past their defence, she’s nearly at the goal and _no_ she’s been tackled! She’s lost the ball!”

Lexa glances up from the file in her lap to watch as Clarke’s friend lets Miya fumblingly steal the ball from between her legs, falling to her knees in mock despair and Miya giggles at her as she kicks the ball haphazardly down the field to approach where her brother is defending two plant pots marking out another goal. For a moment Lexa worries- Aden is just a boy and boys can be rough- but she relaxes back against the grass again when Aden lets his little sister get the ball past him and into the goal.

She squeals her excitement, jumping up and down and Octavia grabs her by the waist to haul her up onto her shoulders, their towering figure illuminated by the setting sun.

Miya’s laughter floats down towards them and Lexa glances over at where Clarke sits beside her, the baby holding Mr Bunny and intermittently dozing in her arms.

Dinner needs to be cooked soon and she has a stack of paperwork waiting for her back indoors, but for a moment she feels perfectly content.

\---

“Hi,” Lexa is scrubbing pots in the kitchen and Clarke takes up the mantle of drying and begins drying them, stacking the bowls onto the counter at her side. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thanks,” she runs a hand over her eyes, smiling tiredly. “I’ve been doing these sorts of shifts for at least a year but I still struggle every single time. I have to shower to wash the hospital off my skin.”

“Well you were out of the house for about twenty hours,” Lexa gives her a small, soft smile and Clarke’s eyes wander to the tiny strands of baby hair escaping the back of the girl’s bun. “You deserve a rest. You’re off tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” she beams at the thought, “All day. I can’t wait.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind taking Aden to this soccer team try out?” Lexa glances at her, brows creased anxiously and Clarke rolls her eyes and cuts through her before she can say anything else.

“Hey, I _offered_ didn’t I? Normally means I don’t mind.” She nudges her elbow gently against Lexa’s ribs.

“As long as you’re sure,” Lexa smiles again, gratefully, “It was good of you to find the team for him, he needs friends his own age, especially boys. I would take him myself but a huge case is coming into the circuits about this law I’m  working on and I have to-”

“Lex,” Clarke places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “I really, really don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Lexa drains away the rest of the water and Clarke watches as some of the tension that seems to have wormed its way permanently into her shoulders falls away.

Aden wanders in from the living room, kicking at the kitchen floor with a bored expression and Lexa turns to fix him with a smile.

“Hey Aden, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he leans back on the table, “can we watch a movie? Tris is asleep.”

Lexa glances at her watch, frowning slightly, “it’s getting a bit late to sit down for a movie. What about Miya, can’t you play with her?”

“She went for a nap,” Aden sighs, long suffering but Lexa’s frown deepens.

“Miya put herself to bed for a nap?” At Aden’s nod the tension creeps back into her shoulders. “When?”

“After dinner,” Aden wrinkles his nose, his face scrunching up as he tries to remember, “she said she was tired.”

“Right,” Lexa’s lips are pursed worriedly, “I have to put Tris down and check on Miya.”

“What about the movie?” Aden follows her to the kitchen doorway, but Lexa doesn’t reply, her steps hurried and anxious and Clarke rushes to reassure him.

“It’s kinda late Aden and you have a big day tomorrow, maybe you should go to bed too?”

“But it’s only eight o’clock?” Aden stares at her, perplexed and she raises an eyebrow, holding out a hand to placate him.

“Yes, but I’m a doctor so I know that the best way to play good soccer is by getting plenty of sleep.”

Aden raises his eyebrows, staring at her like she’s an idiot and she gives him a sheepish smile when he shakes his head and sighs again. “I’m not nine, Clarke. That was never going to work.”

“True,” Clarke admits, putting the last stack of bowls away and draping the dish cloth over the back of a chair. “I shouldn’t have tried to play a ten year old, huh? How about this,” she crosses the kitchen to stand in front of him. “If you go to bed now, I’ll take you for ice cream after soccer tomorrow, just you and me.”

His face lights up and he nods enthusiastically, sticking out his hand for her to shake seriously. “You got a deal.”

She follows his scurrying footsteps up the stairs and pauses in the doorway to Miya and Tris’s room. The baby is sound asleep in her crib but the light next to Miya’s bed is on and Lexa is hovering uncertainly over her, one hand wrapped around her waist, chewing on the fingers of her other hand. She is illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp and Clarke is reminded, momentarily, of the artists she studied in school who painted angels hovering by the bedsides of children, ethereal and beautiful.

“Hi,” she greets, softly and Lexa startles, turning to watch as Clarke approaches her. “All okay?” She asks, when she comes to a stop at the little girl’s bedside.

Lexa drops her hand from her mouth, unable to tear her eyes away from where Miya is sleeping fitfully. “She’s hot,” she confesses, quietly and Clarke can hear the tremble in her voice, the fear threading through her words.

“Okay,” she edges closer, glancing uncertainly at Lexa before reaching forwards to feel Miya’s clammy forehead. Her fingers come away sticky with sweat and the child grumbles at the touch, tossing in her sleep. “She is,” she purses her lips, willing herself to calm down as she thinks. “Right okay, we’re going to have to wake her up Lex. Maybe take Tris and put her in your bed so she isn’t disturbed.”

“Okay,” Lexa swallows heavily, one arm still wrapped tightly around her waist and then repeats, more firmly.  “Okay. I can do that.” She scoops the baby into her arms, cradling her carefully and disappears from the room as Clarke kneels next to Miya.

She places a hand on the girl’s shoulder, murmuring her name as she shakes her and Miya rouses groggily, blinking out at her in confusion.

“Hi baby,” Clarke soothes a hand over her forehead, pushing back the strands of dark hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Miya’s voice scratches, catching and cracking and Clarke hums in agreement.

“How long have you felt bad?” She helps Miya sit up a little more and passes her the glass of water on the nightstand, raising it to her lips and helping her drink.

“Since the afternoon,” Miya’s voice is clearer now and she rubs tiredly at her eyes as Lexa hurries back through the door. “Aunty Lexa…” she reaches out her hands instinctively and Clarke steps back to let Lexa engulf the little girl in a hug, kneeling by her bedside and holding her close.

“Where your medicine, Lex?”

“Top shelf of the cabinet in the bathroom,” Lexa answers, her face still buried in the dark hair of the little girl, rocking her gently and making calming sounds.

Clarke rushes out, quick feet taking her to the bathroom and she has to peer up on her tiptoes to find the thermometer and the bottle of child friendly Tylenol. She wets a cloth with cool water and wrings it out before stepping back out into the hallway, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of Aden. He’s in his pyjamas, frowning at her and she is too late to hide the things in her hands behind her back.

“What’s going on? Why do you have medicine?”

“I don’t want you to panic, Aden, but your sister isn’t very well.” Clarke tries to be careful but Aden’s mouth falls open in dismay. “It’s okay,” she rushes to reassure him, “Your aunt and I have it completely under control. She’ll be fine, but for now we’ve put Tris in Lexa’s room, just in case Miya is contagious, okay?”

Aden swallows, nodding nervously and trails her back to the girls’ room, hesitating in the doorway to look at his sister.

“Aden,” Miya is dozing again, but her hand is wrapped tightly around Lexa’s so the woman can’t move any closer to her nephew, but she frowns and holds out her palm to stop him entering. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“What’s wrong with her?” He peers at his sister, but doesn’t cross the threshold of the room.

“We’re going to work that out,” Clarke tells him, calmly, “it won’t be anything serious, children pick up illnesses all the time.”

“Is she going to be okay?” He tries to edge further into the room, but stops at the sight of Lexa’s sharp gaze.

“I promise Clarke and I will look after her Aden. No harm will come to your sister under my watch,” Lexa’s voice is soft, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on Miya’s hand.

“You can’t expect me to just go to bed,” Aden juts his chin out stubbornly, crossing his arms and when Lexa’s jaw clenches anxiously Clarke steps in.

“Why don’t you go and look after Tris? She’s in Lexa’s room, don’t wake her up but keep an eye on her while we’re busy. Can you do that? It would be a big help.”

Aden’s eyes flicker suspiciously over to Lexa, but his aunt onl nods sincerely and finally he goes back to the hallway again. “Okay, but tell me if anything happens.”

“We will,” Clarke promises, eagerly and Aden nods, satisfied, disappearing out of the door.

“Okay,” Lexa sighs quietly, the tension lifting a little from her shoulders, but her brows crease again when she looks back down at the little girl. “What do you think it is?”

“Hard to say,” she kneels carefully next to the bed, running her fingers down Miya’s hot cheek and cooing softly until dark eyes blink open, staring at her curiously, bleary with sleep. “Hey,” she smiles at the little girl, “sorry to wake you up again darling, but I need to take your temperature, okay?”

Miya only nods sleepily, her fingers grasping for her aunt again and Lexa moves immediately to sit on the small bed and pull her up into her lap, holding her close. Carefully, Clarke hands the thermometer over to Lexa, who helps Miya balance it between her lips.

They only have to wait a few moments, attempting to keep the little girl between them awake and when Clarke takes the final reading she cringes.

“101.2.” She tells Lexa, grimly, “that’s a fever, definitely.”

“Is she okay? What can we do?” Lexa eyes dart from Clarke to Miya and Miya tugs at her shirt tiredly.

“Aunty Lexa can I go back to sleep?” Her words slur, but Lexa looks at Clarke urgently.

“In a minute Miya,” the blonde reassures her, “first, can you tell us what hurts?”

Miya frowns, her little face scrunching up in thought, “my head,” she says at last, decidedly, “and I’m achy.” Her lips sticks out, quivering and Lexa runs a hand over her hair, hushing her quietly.

“We’ll fix all of that, I promise. What did you do today baby? Were any of your friends sick?” Lexa brushes sticky strands of hair behind Miya’s ear.

“Samantha and me played with the barbies and me and Jack played house and Marnie and Iris and me ran races,” Miya perks up a little as she talks about her day and her tears disappear when she smiles. “I won.” She tells Lexa, proudly.

“Well done!” Lexa kisses the top of her head, “and what about your friends hmm? Jack and Iris and Marty? Were they all okay?”

“Marnie,” Miya corrects her, seriously and then falters, thinking for a moment, “Sam had to go home, her mommy came and picked her up. She was hurting when we were playing and she went for a nap and then her mommy came because she had funny red bits.”

Clarke’s stomach sinks and she hears Lexa’s breath catch in her throat. She meets the woman’s eyes in through the dark, “has she had her chickenpox vaccine?”

“No,” Lexa groans, biting back curses and Miya frowns again, curling closer into her embrace.

“I _hurt_ Aunty Lexa,” she whines, and then says, softly, “I want mommy.”

Clarke’s heart breaks at the stricken look that crosses Lexa’s face and she sees her let out a shuddering breath, her voice catching when she answers her niece.

“Not tonight baby. When you’re better we’ll see her, I promise.”

Miya seems to consider tears, her lip quivering for a few moments before her exhaustion wins out, eyes drooping and Clarke jumps in.

“You like cherry, Miya?” The little girl nods and Clarke holds up the bottle of Tylenol. “Well I have cherry syrup here that will make you feel all better.”

“Clarke,” Miya sighs, tiredly, rolling her eyes, “I’m not stupid, I know that’s medicine.” She fixes her with a sceptical expression, “I’m nearly six y’know.”

“I guess you are,” Clarke laughs, soft and tired and Lexa curls her arms closer around Miya.

“It’ll help you feel better baby, okay?”

Miya nods reluctantly and takes the spoon of medicine into her mouth, swallowing it with a crinkled nose and a grimace and Clarke smiles slightly at the sight. It only takes the little girl a few more minutes to be gently coaxed back into sleep and Clarke excuses herself to put away the medicine again and look in on where Aden is curled up behind Tris, sleeping quietly, as Lexa stands at Miya’s bedside uneasily.

By the time she emerges from the bathroom the brunette has managed to make it to the doorway, but she is still stood looking in anxiously, as if unable to tear herself away.

“Lex,” Clarke calls to her softly, but Lexa still startles in surprise and turns to look at her with wide green eyes. “She doing okay?”

“As far as I can tell.” Lexa admits after a few moments of silence and then adds, bitterness twisting her words, “not that I would notice otherwise.”

“Hey,” she frowns and rests a hand on the girl’s shoulder, urging her gently away from the doorway. “Don’t beat yourself up. Kids get illnesses all the time, it’s totally natural. They build up their immune system.”

“I didn’t notice, Clarke!” She isn’t loud, not really, but Clarke still jumps at the sound and Lexa seems to startle herself, blinking in surprise before swallowing heavily. She’d torn herself away from Clarke’s touch in her outburst and now Clarke’s hand hovers mid-air, frozen in surprise. It falls back to her side heavily and Lexa looks away as if ashamed. “I’m sorry, I just… my sister entrusted me with these kids. _Her_ kids.” Her eyes dart back to the door and she glances at Clarke hesitantly. “Their dad isn’t around y’know, so it’s just me. I’m all they have and I… I _have_ to be enough.”

“Lexa,” Clarke edges a step closer, until there are only a few inches between them. She doesn’t try to touch Lexa again, but their proximity seems to comfort the brunette because she lets out a breath and her shoulders sag slightly. “You need to cut yourself some slack. You’re doing an awesome job with these kids, all parents make mistakes, y’know? And you- well I suppose, I mean I guess you didn’t have much time to prepare for this?”

“Not a lot,” Lexa admits, shakily and smiles wryly at her, tendrils of dark hair falling down her cheeks.

“Exactly,” the upturned quirk of her lips encourages Clarke, “so you haven’t gone through the same learning curves as other parents. But you’re still doing great, and you’ll only get better, alright?” Lexa nods and her smile, though still sceptical, grows a little. “Miya will be fine, I promise.”

“What about Aden’s soccer match tomorrow?” Lexa’s lip disappears between her teeth, her brows creasing, “I suppose I could stay home and watch Miya, if you would still be willing to take him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she taps her foot thoughtfully for a moment, “I’ll call Octavia, she’s working a night shift tomorrow, she can take him and I’ll stay here to look after Miya.”

“But I can’t ask Octavia to-” Lexa’s brows furrow in consternation but Clarke cuts through her before she can worry herself into a panic.

“Lexa. She’ll be happy to help, I promise.” Lexa is still frowning at her and she laughs quietly, “you have to learn to let people help you. Now what are you going to do about your bed, hmm?”

Lexa follows her gaze through the open door of her bedroom and sighs quietly. “I feel bad waking them.”

Clarke hums in agreement and says, without thinking. “You can sleep in my bed.” Lexa’s head swivels to stare at her in surprise, her eyes widening and Clarke feels a blush creep up her neck and blossom across her cheeks as she hurries to correct herself, stumbling over her words. “I mean- just- it’s a big bed and you-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll wake them up.” Lexa is flushing too, flustered, and she pauses in the doorway to glance back at her with a shy smile. “Thank you though, Clarke. For everything.”

“Anytime,” she promises sheepishly, lifting a hand to rub at the back of her head. Only when she has trudged downstairs and swung her bedroom door shut behind her does she put a hand to her face to feel the heat warming her cheeks and try to shake away the thoughts of the pretty pink flush along Lexa’s exposed collarbones.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know below and over on tumblr what you thought of this chapter and this fic in general! and hit me up with any headcanons or ideas or questions over at onemilliongoldstars on tumblr.


	3. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all of your lovely comments guys! This chapter is the longest yet and from here on we'll start splitting the months into two because otherwise they would be absolute monsters.

_September_

“Hi. Good night shift?” Warm morning sunlight floats in through the kitchen window, soft and golden and it makes Clarke’s lips curl up into a slight smile, despite the headache pulsing behind her eyes and the exhaustion seeping through her bones.

“Hey,” she sinks into a seat at the kitchen table and smiles wanly when Lexa slides a cup of green tea in her direction. “Not too bad, thanks. Glad it’s over.” Her weary gaze is lifted and she finds the girl leaning against the kitchen counter and watching her, dressed in a dark skirt suit and crisp white shirt, her hair pulled back in a sensible, elegant twist. Lexa’s briefcase sits on the chair next to her, packed and ready to go and Tris is gurgling happily in her high chair, dressed in a brightly striped shirt and pink pants, a cardigan peaking out from the top of her diaper bag.

“Everything looks ready for the first day of school,” Clarke observes, leaning her elbows against the table and Lexa smiles at her, nodding.

“Just waiting on the kids.” As if hearing her words a set of feet come racing down the stairs, so loud that the house seems to shake and they both cringe at the sound, Lexa rolling her eyes slightly.

Aden rounds the bannister so quickly that he looks like a spinning top, his new backpack large and almost weighing him down, a soccer ball grasped under his arm.

“Bye Aunt Lexa!” He waves errantly, smiling at her, but Lexa pushes herself away from the counter, hooking him back with a sharp reprimand.

“Aden!” He hesitates at the doorway, wrinkling his nose guiltily and Clarke turns to watch in her chair sheepishly as Lexa approaches the boy. She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow and tapping her heeled foot expectantly and even Clarke winces under the stern look she gives the boy. “Drop the ball.”

“But Aunty Lexa,” he whines, half heartedly, “what if they don’t have one? Me and my friends want to play.”

“You and your friends play every weekend on the soccer pitch,” Lexa counters, “the school will have a ball for you to play with at recess, you’ll only lose this one. Drop it.”

“But what if they _don’t_ -”

“Then tough luck, we don’t supply soccer balls to the whole elementary school. _Drop it_.” Aden knows better than to argue with that tone of voice and reluctantly drops the ball for Lexa to nudge away down the corridor. “Thank you, now do you have everything? Your lunch? Your books?”

“Yes Aunt Lexa,” as Aden tries to edge closer to the door, glancing anxiously out of the window, Miya appears on the stairs behind him, a bag clutched in both hands, and sits slowly to watch them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to ride with us? I’m taking your sisters anyway-”

“ _No_ , Aunt Lexa, I’m too old to get a ride to school.” The rumble of the school bus in the distance cuts through the argument and Aden perks up, dancing up onto his tiptoes to give Lexa a hasty kiss on the cheek. “That’s me! Gotta go! Bye Clarke, bye Mi, enjoy kindergarten!” He darts out of the door before Lexa can call any more concerns and she stands in the hallway, watching him until he clambers up onto the school bus.

Clarke heaves herself reluctantly out of her seat, trudging down the hallway to place a gentle hand on Miya’s head. The little girl startles slightly, looking up at her with wide, solemn eyes. “You excited for your very first day of school, Miya?”

Miya just nods, her lips pressed tightly together and Clarke’s eyes dart over her as Lexa goes back to the kitchen to collect Tris. Miya is dressed in a dress with yellow sunflowers on it and her hair is pulled back in two pigtails, secured by gold ribbons. She’s clutching her little bag so tightly that her knuckles are white and she has a pasty complexion.

“You feeling okay?” Clarke frowns, passing a hand over Miya’s forehead. It’s not hot but Miya’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“No! No, I’m sick. I should go back to bed.”

She’s already standing to go back upstairs and Lexa stops her with an outstretched hand, returning to stand next to them, Tris held on her hip and the diaper bag slung over her shoulder. “Wait, you’re sick?” Her brows crumple with concern. “What’s wrong? How do you feel?”

“Bad.” Miya replies seriously, pouting and Clarke raises an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” She frowns, taking Miya’s hands in hers and feeling at her forehead and then her tummy. “Does your stomach hurt?” When Miya nods enthusiastically Clarke’s frown deepens and she turns back to Lexa. “I’m afraid we have a very serious issue, I think she’s eaten a big worm by accident.”

“What?” Miya’s face falls, her mouth dropping open and eyes darting frantically between Lexa and Clarke and the blonde nods.

“Yes, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“It must have been in the spaghetti last night,” Lexa adds dryly, biting back her smile and Clarke has to press back a grin at the sight of Miya’s panic.

“The only thing we can do is take yo u to hospital and have them give you a very, very big shot-”

“No!” Miya scrambles away, “no! I’m not sick, I’m fine! I made it up, I lied.”

“ _Really_?” Lexa quirks an eyebrow, “well that was silly, you nearly got a shot. Into the car then, we have to get to school.”

“No-” Miya doesn’t make any move to leave her step, “no I don’t want to.”

“Why not, sweetheart?” Clarke takes one of her hands again, pressing her thumb to Miya’s small palm in a way that she hopes is reassuring and the little girl look between them, all big eyes and trembling pout.

“I’m scared,” she says at last, voice shaky and soft, “what if I do something wrong? What if no one will play with me?”

“Miya,” Lexa’s expression crumples and she kneels carefully on the floor, despite her neatly pressed skirt and the scuffs surely appearing on her polished heels. “That won’t happen, I promise. There’s nothing to do wrong, just be good and nice as you always are and you’ll have a wonderful time, I promise.”

“I don’t want to.” Miya curls into herself a little more, tears sparkling in her eyes, “not without mommy.”

Lexa’s eyes close and Clarke sees pain flicker across her expression like the flame of a candle. When the green of her eyes reappear, however, the expression is replaced with calm and understanding and Clarke takes Tris out of the brunette’s arms, cooing to her very softly as the toddler tugs at the neck of her scrubs.

“Miya,” Lexa says, quietly, “I’m sorry your mommy can’t be here.”

“She was going to braid my hair,” Miya’s voice hitches over her words, “we have it all planned out, she’d make my hair look like hers and then-” a hiccoughing sob escapes the five year old, “-then a little bit of her would be with me. Make me brave.”

“Well,” Lexa places a hand on her knee, stroking gently, “you know me and your mommy grew up together. She took me to my first day of kindergarten and she braided my hair for me. I bet I can remember how to do it, if you want?”

Large brown eyes blink up at her, glassy with tears and a touch of wonderment and Miya lip quivers again when she asks, “you can?”

“Sure,” Lexa clambers awkwardly around them both to perch on the step above Miya and efficiently begins untying the ribbons in her hair. “Your hair is like mine when I was little,” she tells her as she combs out three pieces and begins a french braid down the back of Miya’s head, “I use to wriggle whenever An- your mom did my hair, try to run away. I was a nightmare.” Miya giggles a little and a small smile flickers across Lexa’s face, though her eyes are downturned and focused on her task. “She used to tickle me and say that if I didn’t sit still she would fetch our foster father’s razor and-”

“Shave it all off.” Miya’s giggles are louder now, a smile lighting up her small face and Lexa nods, chuckling.

“Exactly. It always terrified me, but I sat still and she made me look just like her.” She ties off the final braid. “There you go.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, Lexa snaps a quick picture and passes the screen around to Miya, whose lips stretch out to a beam.

“I look like mommy!”

“You sure do,” Lexa’s smile is tempered with a sort of fondness that Clarke can only understand very distantly and she feels a tide of sadness well up inside her, her chest tightening as Lexa blinks away the slight cloudiness to her own eyes and brightens her smile in time for Miya to turn to throw her arms around her.

“Thank you Aunty Lexa!”

“Anytime,” Lexa rubs her back gently and urges her up. “Now, we should get going. You ready?”

Miya nods, jumping up and turning to look contritely at Clarke, “I’m sorry for lying Clarke.” She looks sheepishly at Clarke from beneath her lashes and the blonde can’t help but smile, passing Tris back up to Lexa as she speaks.

“Don’t worry about it, Miya. Everyone gets nervous on their first day, but you’ll be fine, I promise.” She kneels back to the little girl’s height so she can touch her nose gently. “If anything goes wrong you can call and I’ll be right there, understand? And maybe tonight we can have your favourite, hmm? Chocolate pudding?”

Miya cries out, delighted with the proposal and hugs Clarke tightly. She tries to press back her laughter when Lexa rolls her eyes at her over Miya’s shoulder, but there is a tender affection in her eyes that makes Clarke’s skin flush with happiness.

\----

“Enough business, Lex. You know I don’t understand all the intricacies, you were always the clever one.” The lurid orange of Anya’s jumpsuit never seems to get any better and Lexa draws her eyes away from it, glancing at the papers sat on her side of the visitor room table. Her sister is leaning back in her chair, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair is tied neatly behind her head. She looks well, apart from the bags under her eyes and the slight hollowness to her cheeks and she frowns at Lexa, mouth twisting downwards with worry. “Have you heard from Titus recently?”

“Not in the last few weeks,” Lexa shifts uncomfortably, she feels out of place in her suit, she’d come straight from work but she knows that she looks more like Anya’s lawyer than her sister.

“How was he, when you last spoke?” Anya looks grim and bitter and Lexa swallows, shaking her head carelessly.

“Same old. He doesn’t think I can do this.”

“He’s a dick.”

“He was our foster father, An.”

Anya scoffs, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair, “I don’t care, he was still vile. Let’s not talk about him any more, as long as he isn’t bothering you.”

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” Lexa quirks her head to the side, watching the soft smile that smooths out her sister’s expression.

“My kids, Lexa.” Anya looks at her, cheerful and expectant. “Tell me how they’re doing.”

“They’re good,” she nods heartily, shuffling away the papers into her bag and resting her hands uncertainly on the table. “They miss you.”

Anya’s face falls a little and when she sighs Lexa hurries to reassure her.

“I’ll bring them this weekend, I promised them. Miya is all better now so she’s fine to come, she’ll be excited. She wants to tell you about kindergarten.”

“Everything went okay then?” Anya’s expression perks up.

“We had a shaky start,” Lexa admits, “but we pulled through. Clarke really helped, Miya wanted me to braid her hair like yours.”

“And Clarke is… the new housemate, right?” Her sister frowns slightly. “Is she okay? Like… she’s good with the kids?”

“They love her,” Lexa can’t help the bemused smile that spreads across her face, “it’s funny, she’s soft with them so they like her. Tris will even go down for her nap with her now.” Anya’s answering smile is resigned and strained and Lexa immediately backtracks, “but they really miss you, they do! They’re always asking for you, they talk about you all the time-”

“Lexa,” Anya reached over to touch her hand gently, cutting off her diatribe, but pulls herself away when the warden gives them a sharp glare. “I’m not upset that the kids like her, I want them to be happy. I gave you custody for a _reason_ , little sister. I trust you can do a better job than anyone else.”

“Thank you,” she finally answers, watching as Anya leans back in her chair, “I’m- I’m trying my best An. I’d give up everything for them, for _you_. You know I would.”

“I know.” Anya’s smile is genuine this time, calm and tender. “I trust you Lexa.” A moment of silence passes between them and Anya continues, with a wry twist to her words. “So, what’s the new girl like? You haven’t really told me anything about her.”

“Oh-” Lexa stumbles over her words, “no, I guess- well I mean she hasn’t really come up.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t brought her up,” Anya points out, raising an eyebrow, and her voice darkens, “she _is_ safe around my kids, right Lexa?”

“Of course! You think I’d let someone move in who I hadn’t thoroughly vetted?” Lexa rolls her eyes, “she’s a medical intern, she works in pediatrics.”

Anya’s eyes widen at the news and she looks reluctantly impressed, “useful.”

“Yeah, her hours are pretty irregular but that can be helpful sometimes. She’s there in the day to look after the kids, I’m there in the evening. It works well. Oh! And she got Aden onto a soccer team, isn’t that great?”

“Awesome,” Anya smiles, “he’s always been good.”

“Yeah, he loves it. She’s not a great cook,” Lexa muses, “the kids eat way too much junk food with her. I’ve tried giving her a cookbook, tried _teaching_ her some basic stuff but I swear, Anya, she has a skill for burning anything. She’s way too soft on the kids, they go to her for anything. All I ever hear now is _but Clarke said_.” Lexa huffs out a soft breath from between her teeth, “it’s ridiculous An, I tell you- what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Anya’s knowing smile doesn’t slip and she shrugs halfheartedly, lips quirking up into a grin when she asks, lazily. “Is she single?”

“Single?” Lexa blinks, flummoxed for a moment, “what do you- I mean, why would that matter? I-I think she is but it’s not important.”

“ _Sure_ it’s not,” Anya drawls, pressing back a secretive smile and Lexa grunts, annoyed.

“I don’t know what you’re implying Anya but- you’re totally off. Y’know. Whatever it is.”

“Lexa, I’ve known you since you were born, I know when you’ve got a crush.”

“I do _not_ have a crush on Clarke!” She splutters, outraged, “that would be… completely inappropriate and totally ridiculous and I _do not_ have time for crushes Anya!”

The buzzer goes behind them and they are suddenly surrounded by the scraping of chairs and people rising from their seats. Anya approaches her and, as irritated as she is, Lexa can’t resist pulling Anya in for a tight hug, breathing in the stuffy smell of her uniform and and the prison regulation soap, revelling in the feeling of being supported by her older sister for a moment.

“Are you doing okay?” She can only ever ask this when they’re embracing, when she can’t see Anya’s face and she feels the woman shudder a little. “Do you have enough in your commissary? Should I send more?”

“I’m good,” Anya tells her and Leax does her the favour of ignoring the quiver in her voice. “Look after my kids, Lexa. And look after yourself.”

“I will,” she steps back and reluctantly gathers her things, casting her sister one last look at where she stands, watching her disappear through the exit.

“Hey! Ask Clarke if she wants to go for coffee!” Anya calls, grinning and Lexa bites the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to flick her middle finger under the gaze of the steely faced guards.

\----

Miya is a warm, heavy weight against her side when she hears the sound of footsteps walking carefully down the stairs, soon replaced by the clicking of heels against the wood panelling of the hallway. The baby monitor sits at her side, a banana bread is cooking in the oven and Aden is upstairs playing on his game boy _thing_. The little girl curled into her side shifts slightly in her sleep and Lexa glances at the clock on the mantelpiece, over the fireplace, promising herself another five minutes with her sleepy companion before she ushers her upstairs to bed.

Clarke appears at the doorway, smiling and Lexa does a double take. Clarke is always beautiful, it’s become an understood fact that the girl is somehow stunning in her scrubs, that her eyes sparkle when she does the dishes and her hair is golden sunlight even when she’s too tired to wash it. But now Clarke looks different.

Next to her, Miya stirs and blinks open her eyes, rubbing them blearily and twisting to look at Clarke. Her face lights up in a smile and she says, voice slurred with sleep. “Clarke you look so pretty. Like a pop star.”

Lexa isn’t inclined to disagree. Clarke’s hair falls in soft blonde curls around her face, her lips are stained pink and tipping up into a smile and her eyes are lined in dark, smokey pencil. Her dress glitters and when she steps into the room Miya reaches out to touch it, enamoured.

“You look beautiful, Clarke.” The words stumble out of her mouth before she can stop them and she feels heat rise to her cheeks when Clarke looks at her, smiling sweetly.

“Thanks Lex.” She perches on the arm of the couch closest to Lexa as Miya snuggles back into her aunt’s side. “What are you up to?”

Lexa’s eyes dart from the pinterest app on her iPad, pulled up onto the _healthy school lunches_ tab, to the cardigan she is methodically sewing a button back on to, and her blush darkens.

Fortunately Clarke doesn’t wait long for her to answer and instead sniffs appreciatively, “what’s baking? It smells _amazing_.”

“Banana bread,” Lexa manages to stammer the words out, her eyes falling to Clarke’s bare legs when the girl shifts to look towards the kitchen.

Clarke lets out a moan that is positively pornographic at the words, humming in the back of her throat and Lexa’s breath catches, her entire body stilling. “My favourite,” Clarke smiles down at her and Lexa turns her eyes determinedly back to her work.

“Where are you going?” She tries to ask as casually as possible, her fingers shaking a little as she sews.

“Out for a few drinks with some of the girls from work.” Clarke smiles, shrugging as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “The cab should be here any moment actually.”

“Yeah? Are you getting an Uber?” Lexa frowns, pausing to look up at her anxiously and Clarke smiles indulgently.

“Yes Lex, no one is going to kidnap me.”

“Will you be warm enough? It’s cold out there… I can lend you a coat?”

“I have coats,” Clarke laughs, shaking her head so that her curls bounce and pulling her phone out of her bag to peer at. “Oh it’s nearly here, I should get ready.” She spots the concern on Lexa’s face and rolls her eyes, “it’ll be warm inside, don’t worry.” She bends down and before Lexa can react, presses a kiss to her cheek, lips warm and soft and full, and then starts towards the door.

Lexa is frozen in her spot, lips parted and unable to tear her eyes up to watch the girl go until Clarke calls a breezy farewell from where she’s sliding into her heels, abandoned in the hallway.

“W-Will you be safe getting home?” She asks in a rush, unable to get up with Miya curled up against her and Clarke smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“The aim is that I probably _won’t_ be coming home, Lex.” She winks, looking to the door when a car toots its horn and breezing from the house.

“Aunty Lexa?” Miya asks, sleepily, poking at her curiously, “you’re all stiff.”

\----

Clarke doesn’t come home that night.

Lexa lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, with the faint smell of banana bread and the reassuring crackle of the baby monitor, and tries not to think about why.

\----

She runs a hand through her hair, tugging on the strands that have been pulled up into a tight bun all day and are only now slowly unravelling. Her scrubs are heavy and uncomfortable against her skin and she can’t wait to get inside and shower off the stress of her day, but something is keeping her trapped inside her car on the driveway, staring up at the house. _Something_ is her kind heart, which always seems to be getting her into trouble and she chews nervously on her lip when she looks over at the passenger seat, where the new puppy has been whining in his cage for the last hour.

Clarke has been known to make rash decisions before, but this could be one of her more extreme ones. But Harper had spent all day on ward rounds telling her about her roommate’s puppies-

\- _“He can’t afford to keep them all Clarke, if he doesn’t sell the last of them today he’s going to have to send them to the pound!”-_

\- and she had eventually caved.

So now her credit card is aching from the trip to the pet shop and her car smells and she has a small, sad golden lab in the huge dog cage next to her, staring up at her with literal puppy dog eyes.

He whines again, scratching against the cage bars and Clarke sighs and heaves herself up out of her seat. The puppy is scooped up into her arms, still writhing and wriggling and she wraps her hands tightly around his small body, petting him until he calms down slightly.

Lexa’s car is in the driveway next to hers, clean and parked conscientiously close to the edge of the paving, to give Clarke as much room as possible. Clarke has been a good roommate up until now, but she’s pretty sure that this is going to get her into some trouble.

It’s impossible to unlock the front door with her hands full of squirming fluff and so she rings the doorbell with her shoulder, tensed and waiting for it to swing open.

When it does Aden’s face lights up in surprise and delight and he gasps. “Oh my god! A puppy!”

“What?” Miya appears from the living room door and her mouth falls open. Clarke rushes to shush her before she can squeal and Miya lets out tiny, excited gasps, her eyes as wide as saucers. Clarke ushers them back so that she can step into the house and swing the door shut behind her, and she kneels carefully down on the floor, letting the puppy burrow into the relative safer of her embrace as she says, very softly.  

“Yeah, I brought you guys a present. But he’s very scared and little, so you have to be careful not to scare him, okay?”

They both nod seriously and Clarke smiles. “Good, do you want to stroke him?”

Small hands reach out to pet the animal gently and Clarke smiles at the look of wonder on both of their faces.

“Want to help me out?” They nod eagerly, “go get his cage out of my car so we can put him in that for a little while, while he gets used to us.”

She’s just heaving herself up off the floor, the kids scampering around her, when she hears Lexa’s soft voice from the stairs.

“Give her some breathing room, at least let her get through the door-” her laughter cuts off abruptly when she sees what’s in Clarke’s arms, voice turning to steel. “Clarke. What is that?”

The guilt is written all over her face and she smiles sheepishly, raising him up a little in her arms. “A puppy?”

“And what exactly is it doing here?” She’s never thought of Lexa in a courtroom before, but she suddenly feels as if she is on the stands being questioned, a prickle of fear running up her neck.

"Listen, there's a really good explanation Lexa, I swear." The puppy squirms in her arms, unconcerned by the daggers Lexa is shooting it and the girl snaps.

"I don't care about the reasons Clarke, take it back from wherever you got it!"

"I can't Lexa! My colleague's flatmate had them and he was going to have to send them to the _pound_!" She hitches up the puppy, twisting him so that Lexa can see his big brown eyes, "look at him, he's too cute to end up there!"

"It's sad, but it's none of our business! We _can't_ keep a puppy Clarke." Lexa descends the last few steps until they're only a few inches apart and for the first time Clarke really regrets the few inches between them, tilting her chin up when the brunette glares at her over her reading glasses.

"Why _not_?"

"Where do I begin?" Lexa scoffs out a laugh, "they're dirty, they're loud, they need constant attention-"

"They're cute and he'll grow up into a great guard dog, won't you?" She growls playfully at the puppy and he whines again, struggling to burrow back into her embrace.

Lexa opens her mouth, cocking her eyebrow as she prepares for her speech, but the words are stolen from her by the excited chatter of children's voices. Miya and Aden are balancing the cage between them and Lexa rushes to help on instinct, her eyes growing wide with dismay when she takes it in.

"You already _bought stuff_ for it?" She mutters, angrily and Clarke flinches, cringing before her temper flares.

"I couldn't exactly bring him home to nothing, could I? Thanks kids, put it in the living room."

"Oh no-" Lexa grabs Aden's shoulder, pulling them both to a halt, "he's not going on any carpeted surfaces before I know that he's toilet trained."

"Fine," Clarke rolls her eyes, "the dining room then, there's space in there." The kids hurry to do as she says, manoeuvring the cage through the doorway and Clarke turns back to Lexa, "come on Lexa, it'll do the children good to have an animal, teach them responsibility, give them something to play with."

"He's not a toy," Lexa purses her lips, clearly still displeased, "he's a living creature Clarke, he's going to take so much work, not to mention expense-"

"I'll pay for everything," Clarke counters, eagerly, "food, toys, vets bills, I'll do it all."

"Fine." The brunette bites out at last, adding sourly, "there's not much I can do now that the kids have seen it anyway."

"Thank you," Clarke nods once, still tense and uncertain, "I'm just going to-" She gestures, her hands still full of golden puppy, to the dining room and Lexa nods awkwardly, anger still evident in her words when she speaks.

"I should go and check on Tris. Please be sure that he doesn't damage anything, I fully intend to get the deposit on this house back."

\----

They call the puppy Comet, because the first time they give him a bath he shoots out of the tub like a streak of lightening, barking excitedly and shedding bubbles and water across the house. Aden is torn from his math homework to help corral him back upstairs and they clean up as quickly as they can before Lexa comes home. Miya is covered in water and Aden has bubbles in his hair and Lexa looks between them all suspiciously.

\----

"Aunty Lexa?"

She hums in response, distracted by the legislation spread on the papers before her on the dining room table, a red pen clutched between her fingers.

"Are you any good at math?"

"I guess I'm okay?" She looks up at her nephew, sat across the kitchen table from her and frowning down at his workbook as if it's personally offended him. "I got my high school diploma."

"Can you help me with these equations?" He puts his pen down, defeated, "I can't do it, it's too confusing."

Lexa glances back down at her own work, hesitating for a second before abandoning her pen and standing. "Sure I can," she pulls up a chair next to him, sliding his work across the table towards her. "Let's see this, shall we?"

The page is filled with rough notes, with final carefully completed equations written in pen, the answers underlined with a ruler and Lexa feels a flush of pride at the obvious care he's taken.

"Sal has 95 bananas and 43 apples, using the equation work out how many pears he can buy." She glances down at the equation and then back at the question and can feel Aden's intent little gaze on her, waiting as the gears turn slowly in her mind.

"Well?" He asks, expectantly after a few minutes. "Do you know how to do it?"

"Um... just give me a while okay? Go clean your room or something." She stares down at the paper, turning the equation over in her head as he nods obediently and gathers the rest of his things, glad to escape his homework.

What feels like hours later, but is only 45 minutes, Clarke knocks at the archway that separates the kitchen from the dining room.

"Lexa?" The brunette barely looks up from the working out she's drawing a frustrated line through. "Are you okay?" She approaches carefully, clearly sensing Lexa's irritation and peers over her shoulder. "Is that Aden's math homework?"

"He's stuck, I'm helping him." Is all she answers with, chewing fiercely on the end of her pen as she taps numbers into her phone's calculator.

"Well he's been playing on his gameboy for half an hour now, just so you know," Clarke comments, wryly, still peering down at the problem. "Want some help? Medicine does require _some_ maths."

"No, I can do it." She insists, shaking her head and Clarke huffs out something that sounds like a bitten back laugh.

"How about I go make dinner, so you can keep working, hmm?"

"That would be good, thanks," she answers, distractedly and she can hear Clarke chuckling as she leaves the room.

Hours later she is still bent over the problem, eyes bleary, exhausted. Aden is hovering close by, in his pyjamas and ready for bed and Clarke is standing on the other side of the table, arms crossed and an amused smirk on her face.

"Really Aunt Lexa," Aden is insisting anxiously, "I can just tell my teacher I didn't know how to do it, she'll explain it."

"No," Lexa glares down at the paper, "this is sixth grade math, I can do sixth grade math."

"Oh come here," Clarke lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching over to drag the paper away from Lexa before she can complain. She pauses, reading over it and Lexa grumbles, quietly.

"It's hard. You won't be able to do it."

Clarke stares at the paper for a few more minutes, mouth moving slightly as she thinks before she looks up at Aden and smiles. "Done."

"What?" Lexa demands, standing so violently that her chair shrieks against the floor in protest.

"Really?" Aden scampers around the table to watch her write out the answer for him, "that makes sense! Thanks Clarke!"

"It's okay," she ruffles his hair affectionately, eyes creasing with interest, "this is quite advanced stuff Aden."

He just shrugs, humming noncommittally as he collects his answers and workbook.

"Okay no. No!" Lexa stares at her, face twisted with outrage, "how did you do that? How? When _I_ couldn't!"

"Alright," Clarke wrinkles her nose, vaguely offended, "I'm training to be a doctor Lexa, I'm not an idiot."

"No but-" the ringing of her phone cuts her off and she fumbles for it in her pocket, grumbling in Clarke's direction as she stalks from the room, "This is not over."

She doesn't even look at her phone properly before sliding the bar to answer the call, pressing it between her ear and her shoulder as she wanders upstairs.

"Hello?"

"Lexa." Titus's voice almost makes her trip and stumble and her feet pause, an uneasy feeling settling over her shoulders as she forces herself to climb the last few steps and hide herself in her bedroom.

"Oh, hello Titus."

"I trust you're doing well?" He is crisp and perfunctory and she chews on her lower lip.

"Fine thank you, and yourself."

"Fine, also." There is a moment of tense silence between them and Lexa sinks slowly on her bed, her toe drawing mindless patterns into the carpet as she waits for him to speak. His expectation seem to lay heavily over her head even in his few words and she swallows, pressing her lips together. "Are you still caring for the children?" He asks, at last, and Lexa swallows heavily, her stomach sinking.

"Yes," she says at last, quietly, "Anya asked me to."

He hums in disapproval and she pauses to tuck her feet together, crossing them at the ankles primly. "You always did do everything your sister wanted you to."

"She's my sister," She argues before she can stop herself, "they're my nieces and nephew, without me they'd be alone."

"They're Anya's mistakes," he counters and she lets out a harsh breath of air, fury sliding through her veins. "Don't let them be yours as well, Lexa. You were always the one with the most promise, graduating from Yale, going into the law just as I knew you would and then you had to be persuaded by your sister and move into _legal aid_."

"I'm not talking about this again Titus," she snaps abruptly, bristling with heavy, fiery anger. "I'm not going to change my mind. They're mine to take care of."

"And now you're a single mother of three at 25," Titus lets out a bark of laughter that crawls across her skin.

"Goodbye, Titus."

She hangs up before he can say anything else and tosses her phone behind her on the bed, quickly following it with her body. Eyes fixed to the ceiling, she heaves in a few long, deep breaths and struggles against the tears welling in her throat. Deep, crushing insecurity pulses through her gut and calms her racing heart and the bile rising to her tongue until Titus's voice is no longer swimming through her head and the spots in her vision have cleared. As if on cue the baby monitor on the nightstand behind her crackles into life and a soft, plaintive wailing comes through it. She lets out a soft sigh and sits up, planting her feet on the ground for a moment to feel the fibres beneath her toes. The crying picks up in volume and she forces herself to her shaky feet.

\----

Clarke is just about to get into the shower when her phone starts buzzing. It's buried somewhere within her rumpled bedding and she keeps one hand tightly on the towel wrapped around her middle as she rummages through the light blue comforter. She is breathless when she answers.

"Hello, Miss Griffin?" An unfamiliar voice comes down the line, nasal and bored and Clarke frowns.

"Yes, that's me. Who's this?"

"This is Miss Davies, of Oakland Elementary School. You're the second emergency contact for the Woods children, is that right?"

"The W- yeah, yeah that's me," she sinks slowly down onto the bed, her stomach coiling with fear, "what's happened? What's wrong?"

"We have had an incident with Aden, he's in the principal's office. We tried to contact their aunt, but she didn't respond."

"Okay," Clarke glances around the room, searching out some clean clothes. "You need me down there, then? Now?"

"As soon as possible," Miss Davies agrees and, with a sniff, puts the phone down.

Clarke ends up pulling into the school parking lot fifteen minutes later, dressed in an oversized college sweater and an old pair of leggings, the only clean clothes she had to her name. She hurries into the small school, the name emblazoned in chipping white on the wall outside, lines of daffodils edging the path and an empty play ground to her left. The corridors smell eerily like the hospital: industrial cleaning solution and rubber gym shoes and Clarke makes her way through the maze of classroom and finally finds the reception. Miss Davies- as uninteresting in person as she was on the phone- has her sign her name and then shows her to the office.

Aden sits on one of the chairs outside, scuffing his feet against the floor. His head is downturned, hair dishevelled but he looks up at the sound of her sneakers and her mouth drops open when she sees his bloody nose and the bruising beginning to blossom over his eye.

"Aden!" She hurries to his side, placing herself on the squat seat at his side and taking his chin in her hands to turn his face this way and that, examining him carefully. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Clarke," he pulls himself gingerly from her grip, hopeful eyes darting down the corridor, "did they only call you? Not Aunt Lexa?"

"They called your aunt," she tells him, watching his face fall, "she couldn't get to the phone so they called me."

"Really?" His face lights up again, "is there any way you could... not mention this to her?"

She cocks an eyebrow and he shrinks under her gaze, cringing away a little. "Let's see what the principal wants first, hmm?"

As if on cue the door swings open and an old, balding man sticks his head out into the corridor, eyeing them both, "Miss Griffin?" He looks at her expectantly and she straightens automatically, nodding the affirmative and he hums quietly, "alright, come inside."

Aden leads the way and together they troop into the principal's office. It's small and dim, a few filing cabinets and a desk with two hard chairs on one side and a large black swivel chair on the other. A laptop and a few limp plant pots are all that give the place any kind of personality and the principal- Mr Humphreys, his placard reads- sinks into his seat, gesturing that they take their places across from him.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Griffin," Mr Humphreys pulls out a small file, grainy brown and held together with a single paper clip, which he slides off to flip it open. "Aden is new to our school," he looks up to peer at the boy, who cringes in his seat. "He and I have already spoken about his behaviour and agreed that he was in the wrong."

"Wait, no, can you tell me what's actually happened?" Clarke looks between Aden and Mr Humphreys, her dislike for the man growing by the second when he fixes her with a condescending look over the desk.

"Teachers had to separate Aden and a classmate when they were brawling in the playground." He peers at her over his small glasses, wrinkling his nose, "we have a zero tolerance policy for violence in this school, Miss Griffin. Aden knows that, don't you?"

Aden nods, glumly and Clarke glances over at him, asking quietly, "you were hitting someone? Aden, that's not cool."

"As I said-" Mr Humphreys is cut off when the is pushed open, swinging inwards and there, in the doorway, stands Lexa.

She's clearly still dressed for work, her hair pulled up and her suit neatly tailored to her body, slim pants and small, elegant heels which click against the old linoleum. She does a double take when she spots Clarke and then looks to Mr Humphreys.

"Lexa Woods," stepping forwards she holds out a hand for him to shake and Humphreys follows her lead, brows creasing, "sorry I couldn't be here sooner, I was in a meeting." She looks over at Aden and she frowns at the sight of his face, moving to stand behind his chair and place her hands on his shoulders. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well," the principal looks flustered for the first time since Clarke stepped into the room and she relishes at the rosy blush colouring his cheeks, "as I was just explaining to Miss Griffin, Aden was involved in a fight in the school yard today. We do not allow fighting, Miss Woods."

"Of course not," Lexa nods sharply, "I trust the other child has also been reprimanded?"

"Well, yes," Mr Humphreys shifts uncomfortably and anger sparks through Clarke's chest at his next words, "but Benjamin has always been a very gifted child, he's been here for years and we know this was an exceptional case for him. Aden, while being extremely smart, is new to us so-"

"Do you not have faith in your students, Mr Humphreys?" Lexa fixes him with a keen stare and to Clarke's delicious pleasure, Humphreys shrinks back in his seat, "Aden," she looks down at the boy, "why don't you tell us what happened?"

Aden is chewing on his lip, looking between Lexa and his teacher and when his eyes fall on Clarke she nods encouragingly, offering a small, supportive smile. It seems to do the trick because Aden heaves in a breath and says, slowly, "Ben was saying things... about my mom." Clarke flinches when she sees Lexa's entire body tense beneath her crisp suit, her fingers tightening just slightly on Aden's shoulders. "And I told him to shut up... and he was saying stuff, like, saying I was stupid and a wimp and all this. Then he said he was gonna get Miya and me after school and... I hit him." His hands are clenched into tight fists on his thighs and when he looks up his eyes are fiery, though he speaks softly. "No one touches my sister."

Clarke's mouth is hanging open in surprise, but Lexa's eyes are sharp with fury when she looks over at the principal, who is hurriedly scribbling things down on the jotter in front of him. "You would allow this sort of malicious bullying in your school? Miya is _five_. She's only just started kindergarten."

"No- no!" Humphreys is hurrying to redeem himself, his blush reaching the tips of his ears now, "We were not informed on all of the information, I will of course be calling Benjamin in to check the validity of Aden's claims."

"I'm not sure to what extent I can trust you to proceed fairly with this," Lexa retorts, "I didn't realise this was the sort of school where students at a disadvantage were treated unjustly."

"No, of course not!" Clarke bites back a smile when Humphreys' voice cracks nervously, "we actually are very impressed with Aden. I can assure you, Miss Woods, that this investigation will be carried out with the utmost fairness."

"I'd expect so," Lexa's tone is so filled with disdain that Clarke has to press back a scoff.

"Of course, of course," Humphreys' is still fumbling for some way to repair this meeting, "in fact it's good to have you here, we have recently been discussing Aden's progress with him."

"Is there something wrong?" Clarke frowns and the principal's head shoots around, as if he'd forgotten she was sitting there.

He glances unsurely between them both before settling his gaze back on Lexa, "not in the slightest," he assures them, "in fact Aden has shown a lot of promise. He's a very gifted child, especially in math. His teacher currently has him doing eighth grade work."

"Really?" Lexa's expression breaks out into smile and she squeezes Aden's shoulder, quietly thrilled. "That's excellent, well done A."

The boy shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden shift in attention, but Mr Humphreys grabs the chance to change the subject.

"Yes, in fact there has been some talk that Aden might benefit in moving up a year. He's very advanced."

"You think that would be best?" Lexa looks down at her nephew, "this is amazing Aden, why didn't you mention it?"

Clarke's eyes follow his body, watches as he curls in on himself and answers, quietly, "I didn't think it was important."

"Of course it's important," Lexa insists, eagerly, "I'm very proud of you Aden, moving up a grade could help you greatly in the future, you need to be pushed in class."

Aden is frowning, sucking in his lower lip and Clarke is fairly certain she's the only one who hears him when he mumbles, "I don't want to move up a grade."

"What was that, Aden?" She cuts through Humphreys and Lexa, reaching out to touch gently at Aden's knee. He jumps at the contact, looking hesitantly up at her with a troubled gaze.

"I don't want to move up a grade," he repeats, more loudly and Lexa frowns.

"What? Why not?"

"I just _don't_ , okay?" Aden snaps, suddenly and Lexa's hands retract from his shoulders as if she's been stung.

"Okay Aden," Clarke pats his knee once, softly and he looks at her gratefully, letting out a long, relieved breath. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"No," Lexa agrees, her voice quieter now, "nothing at all."

\---

Later, when she pokes her head around the door to check that he's in bed, Aden gestures Clarke closer from where he's sat in bed, reading a comic book.

"You alright champ?" She touches his hair tenderly, peering at his nose and the bruising around his eye. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he shrugs, "I put some cream and ice on it, I'll be alright."

"Okay," she frowns, perching herself on the edge of his bed, "I could have done that for you."

He smiles, soft and sad and far too wise for his age. "I got it, don't worry." He hesitates, playing with the brightly coloured pages of the comic book between his fingers. "I just wanted to say thank you, for looking out for me today."

Her heart melts at the words and she can't help reaching out to touch his leg over the comforter, "you're welcome. I'm always on your side, buddy."

"Thanks Clarke," he smiles and she nods, easing herself up.

"You should get some sleep," she advises, glancing at the clock on the bedside table and Aden nods, sliding his magazine into his top drawer and sliding down under the covers.

"I am pretty tired-" he cuts himself off with a yawn and she laughs under her breath, leaning over to turn his bedside light off. "Clarke?" He whispers her name, catching her hand and through the darkness she can only make out the bridge of his nose and the whites of his eyes from the light coming in through the cracked door.

"Yeah?"

"I can't move schools."

"Why not?" She hesitates next to him, hovering between sitting and standing, and listens as he fidgets.

Just when her thighs are beginning to burn he confesses, quietly. "I can't leave Miya, I can't. I promised mom I'd look after her."

"Aden..." Her heart stings at the words and she wishes she could see his face properly, "you don't have to look after her all the time, she has her teachers and me and Lexa."

"No." He is determined and stubborn, "No, I promised mom. I have to be there, in case she needs me."

A moment of silence passes between them and Clarke's heart aches intensely for the little boy wrapped up in the comforter beside her, dressed in his superman pyjamas as if they'll make him strong enough to fight the world for his two baby sisters.

"Okay," she says, at last, "okay."

"Thanks," he sounds relieved, "please don't tell Aunt Lexa... she worries too much anyway."

"Okay bud," Clarke straightens her knees, "I promise not to tell as long as you promise not to get into any more fights, deal?"

"Deal." She can hear the smile in his voice and steps over his toys to get to the doorway, where she pauses to look back into the darkened room.

"Sleep well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! Those of you who wanted to know more about Anya, I hope you're happy, please let me know what you think below or over on tumblr (@onemilliongoldstars)


	4. October I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of your support guys! I know it's been a tough time for a lot of us this week, so I hope this fic goes some way towards helping.

_October_

"Are you excited, hmm?" Tris gurgles happily grabbing hands reaching out to catch the fingers she dangles in front of the baby's face. She manipulates tiny limbs into a soft blue cardigan and then sits the little girl down onto the floor, where she immediately crawls to the tiny lion Clarke had given her, lying discarded on her bedroom floor. It's all soft fluff, with a felt mane that Tris can safely chew to her heart's content and the baby had fallen in love with it from the moment it was presented to her. Now, she clutches it to her chest and then looks at Lexa to check she's watching before pressing a hearty kiss to the pink nose.

Lexa laughs, as she always does, and Tris _beams_.

"You'll be excited when we get there," Lexa promises, grabbing the diaper bag and bending to collect Tris into her arms. One little hand hold the lion close to herself and the other one curls around Lexa's neck, tucking her face into the crook of her neck and Lexa smiles. Pausing in the doorway, she presses a chaste kiss to the top of Tris's head, where she smells like soap and baby powder.

"Is everyone ready to go?" She calls downstairs, checking Aden's empty room as they traverse the staircase.

There's no reply and she frowns, looking over at Tris to say, quietly. "Now where are your brother and sister, hmm? I told them to be ready for this time."

Tris babbles again, patting her cheek reassuringly and Lexa nods, humming sagely, "yes, excellent advice Tris. Clarke will know what they're up to."

She drops the diaper bag at the bottom of the stairs, holding Tris on her hip as she walks down the hallway to Clarke's room, but she is pulled to a standstill in front of the living room door. Miya and Aden are dressed and ready to go, letting out loud, strange noises as they swing imaginary lightsabres at each other, twisting and whirling worryingly close to the living room decorations.

"You'll never defeat the dark side," Aden promises, ducking a swing by his sister and Miya swoops in to lunge at him.

"The light will always win!"

"No you won't!" Aden swipes again and then lets out a sound of victory, "Aha! I just disarmed you!"

"No you didn't," Miya pouts, frowning down at her hands in confusion, "it's still right here."

"Miya, it's _pretend_ ," Aden rolls his eyes, bending to deliver another blow and Miya darts out of the way, nearly barrelling into the coffee table.

"Hey! Careful- what are you two even doing?" She stares at them, dismayed, "we were meant to leave two minutes ago!"

"We're playing Star Wars, Aunt Lexa!"

"I see, where's Clarke- Clarke!" She turns to call down the hallway and the blonde appears from behind her door, looking breathless but beautiful in a soft blue shirt and dark jeans so tight that they look like they’re painted to her legs.

"Sorry, sorry, I got distracted!" She tugs the strap of her satchel over her head, smiling as she approaches Lexa, "hey Tris! Don't _you_ look beautiful today?" She kisses the baby's head and Tris smiles, babbling in agreement. "Are we ready to go?"

She follows Lexa's gaze into the living room and outright laughs at the sight in front of her.

"They're playing Star Wars," Lexa informs her with a roll of her eyes, readjusting Tris on her hip. "This is your fault, letting them watch _two_ of the first movies last night."

"Really?" Clarke grins, elated and steps into the room. "Who's who, kids? What's the game?"

"Clarke!"

"Sorry!" She smiles sheepishly, turning and offering her hands, "let me take Tris for you and start putting her in the car."

" _Thank you_ ," Lexa sighs in relief, handing over the baby. "Aden, grab the cooler bag by the door, please? Miya have you got your shoes on- what do you _mean_ you've lost one?"

\---

The grass is soft beneath the children's feet as they play. It's only early October, so the sun is still strong enough on the west coast to play in the park, but Lexa has a collection of little coats and sweaters at her side in case the sun slips behind a cloud. Miya and Aden are once again engaged in a friendly game of soccer with Raven and Octavia, Comet is barking and chasing the ball around them, excited to be part of the game. She has half an eye on them and half an eye on Lincoln and Clarke, who are sat on the picnic blanket in front of her playing with Tris.

Clarke has Tris's little hands in hers and she is urging her up and onto her feet, which Tris manages. Then, she gently helps her walk one and then two staggering steps towards Lincoln, before Tris's legs give way and she sits with a heavy thump. Lincoln catches her before she hits the ground, scooping her into his strong arms and lifting her up so high that she squeals and giggles madly, limbs flailing before bringing her down and giving her a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

The baby is enjoying the game and Lexa is able to relax back onto the tartan blanket, folding her legs beneath her and cradling the cup of coffee Clarke had poured her from their shared thermos.

"Is she still not talking?" Lincoln asks, when Tris toddles two steps towards Clarke and lands in a heap in her lap.

"Not really," Lexa watches the little girl as Clarke plays with her lion, making it roar in Tris's face, "but she's verbal, so I'm not worried."

"Don't be," one of Clarke's friends, Monty, soft spoken and good with the kids, pipes up from the next blanket, where he's reading, "kids develop at different rates."

"Monty is studying to be a kindergarten teacher," Clarke adds, holding Tris in the cradle of her legs, "he knows his sh- sugar."

Bellamy laughs loudly from where he's setting up the barbecue, "when Octavia was little she wouldn't shut up. Used to have to bribe her with candy to keep her quiet."

"Not unlike now then," Clarke remarks and Lincoln laughs loudly.

" _Anyway_ ," Monty rolls his eyes good naturedly at their antics and looks back to Lexa with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about her, she'll get there in the end, it just takes some kids longer."

"Thank you," she offers the boy a smile and he nods, turning back to his book.

Comet, apparently bored of the soccer game, trots over panting to curl up beside Lexa on the picnic blanket. He noses at her fingers and she shoos him off the blanket and onto the grass, pouring out a bottle of water into a feeding bowl for him to lap at noisily.

“You raucous beast,” she scratches between his ears, rolling her eyes when he lifts his head to pant at her and lick her fingers, water dripping from the fur around his mouth. “Ew, no Comet.”

“He’s growing on you,” Clarke teases, grinning and keeping a tight hold on Tris so that she doesn’t scramble out of her lap.

“Like a disease,” she retorts, rolling her eyes when Clarke throws back her head to laugh loudly.

"Hey, want to play a game of touch football?" Octavia calls over to them, tossing a ball in the air and smiling readily and Clarke nods as Raven makes her way towards them, falling in a heap next to Lexa.

"I'll watch the rugrat," she nods to Tris, "don't want to push it too much," she's rubbing the brace on her leg that Lexa has been studiously trying to ignore looking at and Clarke gives her a concerned glance as she passes Tris over to her.

"You okay, Rae?"

"Fine," Raven waves her away, though her smile is strained and tight.

"Alright," Clarke doesn't look convinced but she hauls herself to her feet, holding a hand out to Lexa, "you going to play?"

"I don't know..." Lexa looks over to Tris uncertainly, but Raven shakes her head.

"I got this, don't worry. She'll be fine, I promise."

"We'll only be over there," Clarke points out and Lexa lets out a nod, carefully screwing the top of the thermos back into place and standing.

Bellamy joins them, leaving Lincoln to start cooking and Octavia blows a kiss to her boyfriend, who smiles sweetly in her direction. Clarke joins Miya's team with Octavia, and they engage high fives as Lexa steps in next to Aden.

"We got this Aunt Lexa," Aden promises, tossing the ball between his hands and Bellamy joins their team with a grin at his sister, who sticks her tongue out.

"Okay," Monty, who has appointed himself as their umpire, gestures behind each team, "those are the end zones guys, from that tree and that tree. I'll toss for who can start with the ball, call it!"

"Heads!" Clarke shouts, at the same time Aden calls out.

"Tails!"

Monty flips the coin and catches it against his palm, "heads it is."

"Alright Miya," Clarke takes the little girl's shoulder, "we're going to do a hike, okay? So you stand in front of me, bend down, there you go. Now put the ball between your legs, that's it... and pass it to me!"

Clarke takes the ball from Miya's hand, and tosses it to Octavia, who sprints off towards them with Bellamy hot on her tail.

Lexa, admittedly, spends most of their game watching out for Miya, who is the most likely to get trampled by eager feet. She lets Aden go after Clarke and mostly tracks the little girl, but they are all gentle with her, even Aden, and she soon finds herself laughing, caught up in the adrenaline of the game.

"Aunt Lexa!" Aden throws the ball in her direction and she jumps, catching it on the tips of her fingers and bolting in the direction of the other team's end zone. She can hear footsteps in pursuit behind her and exhilarated laughter escapes her, cut off into a sudden gasp when a body collides with hers and sends her flying to the floor.

Clarke is heavy and warm above her, she smells like raspberries and coffee and strands of her hair tickle Lexa's cheek as she raises herself up, gaping in shock.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Clarke stares down at her, aghast and tender fingers touch at her head and her cheek, leaving her even more breathless. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I tripped-"

"I'm fine," she finally manages to stutter, unable to tear her gaze away from the blue eyes staring down at her in concern, "really, fine."

"Are you sure? You seem dazed," Clarke shifts above her, hips twitching and Lexa just catches her grunt in the back of her throat, swallowing it away.

"I'm good, really, you're just-" she gestures to Clarke's body, still plastered against hers and Clarke flushes a pretty pink, tearing herself up and away as little feet catch up to them.

"Are you alright Aunt Lexa?" Aden is peering over her, eyes widened in surprise.

"Aunty Lexa, are you okay?" Miya arrives with a skid of sneakers against the dirt and stands close to her, wrapping little arms around her shoulders and neck as she sits up, groaning at her aching bones.

"What hurts?" Clarke is hovering close as well, unsure hands flitting from Lexa's head to her back and her arms. "Is something broken?"

"Just bruised," Lexa reassures her with a smile and Bellamy arrives next to them, grinning.

"Damn, you really went for it huh Lexa? And Monty that was a total foul, I say we win the game."

"You do _not_ ," Octavia argues hotly, "it was an _accident_!"

Clarke rolls her eyes, reaching out a hand to help her up as the siblings continue to bicker and their fingers weave together, tangling and hanging limply between them even once Lexa is on her feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Clarke's voice is soft and filled with worry, but Lexa just smiles and squeezes at their intertwined fingers.

"I'm really fine Clarke," she tucks an anxious Miya into her side,  "I could just use some of that delicious smelling barbecue, what do you think guys?"

Aden whoops his agreement and Miya nods into her side, cuddling close.

Clarke smiles at her, tender and relieved. Their fingers stay tangled until they sit down.

\---

The sun casts warm light over them as they eat, a small gaggle of adults and kids and a dog, talking and laughing and playing. Octavia is curled up close to Lincoln’s side, exchanging soft words and kisses as they eat from the same plate. Raven had mimed gagging at the sight of them, until Octavia had thrown a bun at her head and now the brunette is talking very seriously to Miya, who holds her burger in two hands, mouth hanging open in awe at Raven’s words.

Comet is gnawing on a stick that Aden had fetched for him earlier, tearing the bark from it and Aden is talking excitedly to Bellamy and Monty about soccer, his food gone within a second of being placed in his hands. Her final charge had been napping in Clarke’s lap. Tris had crawled her way into Clarke’s warm nest and curled up, her head pressed to Clarke’s breasts, the moment she had finished eating.

Now though, the baby is awake and quickly tiring of the few toys Lexa had brought for her. She is garbling through her words, throwing her toy block across the blanket.

“Hey,” Lexa touches at her hair, frowning in reprimand and chews through the final bite of her hotdog.

“No, Tris,” Clarke tries to scold her, but the little girl ignores her, rolling back and whining impatiently. “I think she's getting bored.”

“Not surprising,” Lexa sighs, softly, “I might take her for a walk, it would be good to find somewhere to change her diaper. Comet could probably do with stretching his legs as well.”

“There's a bathroom just over there,” Clarke gestures to the squat building a few hundred feet from them, “and a duck pond at the bottom of the hill.”

“Good idea,” reaching down, she hooks the diaper bag over a shoulder and scoops Tris up to buckle her into the stroller, “we're going for a walk, little miss,” she informs her, tying her lion to the string attached to the frame, so that it won't get lost.

“I’ll bring Comet to meet you at the bathrooms,” Clarke smiles, waving at them and the rest call their goodbyes as Tris waves a chubby fist.

She almost barrels straight into Clarke when she leaves the bathroom and comes to a stumbling stop, letting out a hurried apology.

“Sorry Clarke!”

“It's okay,” Clarke’s cheeks are oddly pink, hot and flustered and she holds Comet, straining on his lead, in one hand and a bag of bread in the other, which she holds out abruptly. “I brought this from Lincoln- for the ducks.”

“Oh,” her face lights up with a smile and she takes the bag gratefully, “that's very thoughtful of him.”

“Yeah,” Clarke rubs at the back of her head, smiling uncertainly and Lexa's offer is stilted and unsure.

“Come with us if you want?”

“Oh-” she glances back at where the kids are lounging with her friends and Lexa follows her gaze, brows crinkling when she sees the eyes watching her intently and spies the blush creeping back up Clarke’s neck. “Well, yeah I guess, if you don’t mind?”

“It would be nice to have a two sided conversation,” she admits with a soft laugh and Clarke grins, reaching down to ruffle Tris’s downy hair when the baby reaches up for her with grasping fingers.

“Okay then, let’s go.”

Lexa pushes the stroller and Clarke falls into step next to her, holding Comet’s lead as he pulls and swinging the bag of crumbs gently from her fingers as they walk. Lexa can’t help but steal a quick glance in her direction every so often,watching for bored eyes or longing gazes back to the picnic blankets, but Clarke’s cheeks still shine and a small smile plays on the corners of her lips as they walk.

“You know,” Clarke breaks the peaceful quiet, “I hadn’t even noticed that Tris hadn’t started talking yet.”

Lexa’s eyes fall down to where the baby is gurgling happily in her stroller and she shrugs, “I read a lot of baby books when Anya asked me to look after them,” she explains, quietly but Clarke’s gaze is steady, “most babies don’t start talking until about one and her birthday was in July…”

“Well there’s no need to worry,” Clarke shakes her head and offers a reassuring smile and Lexa suddenly feels like she is talking to a professional, “she’s verbose enough, she’s clearly engaged.”

“She is,” they both laugh when Tris yells out incoherently and tries to grab at Comet’s fluff when he bounds up beside them, abandoning his spot sniffing at a suspect plant pot.

“Did you hear Lincoln trying to teach her earlier?” Clarke is smiling fondly as they turn down a small path towards the pond and Lexa shakes her head.

“No, what was he saying?”

“Trying to teach her Lincoln,” Clarke laughs, tugging Comet away from a dog that passes them, “she was more interested in the candy he was withholding.”

“Eye on the prize, huh?” Lexa leans over to grin at the beaming baby, “that’s my girl.”

“She knows what she’s doing that’s for sure,” Clarke leans down to help her get the stroller up onto the grass and they trail under the trees towards the pond, dappled light making the grass shine golden in the afternoon sun. “It only took her about two seconds of big eyes and trembling lip to get him to give up.”

Lexa clicks her tongue disapprovingly against her teeth, rolling her eyes and trying desperately to bite back her grin when she complains, “your friends are a poor influence, Clarke.”

“Hey!” The blonde laughs, mouth dropping open in mock outrage, “Lincoln was _your_ friend first. I only know him through Octavia.”

“That’s true,” she heaves a long suffering sigh as they approach the gaggle of ducks near the edge of a glistening pond and pulls the stroller to a stop, clicking the brakes into place. “Let’s do this, hmm?” She sinks into the grass next to the stroller to unbuckle Tris.

Clarke sits carefully next to her, keeping a firm grip on Comet’s leash when he struggles, calling him over with a firm voice until the puppy meanders back over to them, nuzzling against Clarke’s arm. She runs her fingers over his soft ears, passing the bread to Lexa and watching with a smile as Lexa opens the packet and offers it out to Tris.

The little girl accepts eagerly, digging in and shoving the tiny fistful of bread into her mouth, chewing on it enthusiastically. Clarke lets out a burst of laughter and Lexa can’t help but giggle even as she shakes her head.

“No Tris, they’re for the ducks,” she dips her own hand in and scatters the handful of breadcrumbs own to the ducks and they shuffle closer, pecking at the ground.

Tris’s eyes go wide in amazement and she looks at Lexa like she has hung the moon, grabbing for the bread bag.

“There you go,” Lexa watches her take a handful and attempt to toss it out, though the bread just sort of falls through her fingers to the grass in front of them, where the ducks eye it warily and don’t dare to come any closer.

“Nearly,” Clarke comforts her, leaning across to press some crumbs between her fingers and throw them out in a wide arc, watching the ducks go charging away in pursuit. Tris makes an excited sound and claps her hands together, beaming at them both and when Lexa grabs another handful of bread she turns to the blonde and says, thoughtfully.

“I’m pretty lucky that Lincoln told me about you or I would have had an empty room.”

“Yeah,” Clarke glances at her again from the corner of her eye and Lexa can feel the heat seeping onto her skin, colouring her cheeks. When Clarke speaks again, her voice is soft, “kind of serendipitous.”

“Serendipitous?” She echoes the words quietly, looking up at Clarke through her lashes, smiling shyly.

“You know, like a lucky chance.”

“Yes,” she brushes a hand over Tris’s hair and can’t help but glance back at where soft blue eyes are watching her with a tenderness so soft it’s almost painful. “Very lucky.”

\----

Clarke’s shoes squelch every time she walks and Lexa has to press back a laugh when she glances over at the soggy blonde pushing the stroller. Clarke catches her gaze and glares playfully, pushing wet hair out of her face and rolling her eyes.

“Not a _word_ , okay?”

“I’m not saying anything!” Lexa protests, unable to stop her grin.

“You don’t have to!” Clarke retorts, but there is laughter in her voice and a twinkle in her eye despite the water.

“Well now that we’re _talking_ about it, you didn’t have to jump into the pond after him.”

“He’s a baby, Lexa!” Clarke presses a hand to her heart, feigning outrage at the suggestion and Lexa actually does giggle this time.

“He’s a sixth month old dog, Clarke, he would probably have figured out how to swim to shore. Plus it was only up to your waist, you didn’t have to throw your whole body in.”

“It was an instinct!” Clarke shakes her head, looking down at the damp puppy pulling on the leash. “He needed me, he could have drowned.”

“I promise you he wouldn’t have drowned,” she guarantees, pressing back a smile when Clarke scoffs loudly.

“Are you a vet, Lexa? How can you _promise_ -” her diatribe continues, but Lexa’s attention is caught when she spies their small group up ahead of them and she can’t bring herself to focus on Clarke’s words.

Her eyes narrow and flicker from where Raven and Octavia are stood in front of Aden and Miya, their arms outstretched to hold the pair back. Lincoln towers behind them, gazing at the man in the dark suit who the two girls are arguing fervently with.

“Hey, who’s that?” Clarke has spotted him as well and is frowning, glancing at Lexa for guidance.

“I don’t…” The man turns and she can suddenly see him in profile, the arch of his nose and tight set of his jaw, the shining bald head and her stomach drops like it’s turned to lead, a sickening rise of bile in her throat.

She sets off at a run, Comet jumping enthusiastically into action beside her, galloping along with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and Clarke’s surprised shout is lost in the wind behind her. The ground falls away beneath her feet and Miya is the first to catch sight of her, relief flushing across her face. She struggles out from between Lincoln, Raven and Octavia, darting past her brother to hurtle herself into Lexa’s legs when she is only a few paces from the group.

Comet barks happily in greeting, jumping up to nuzzle at Miya’s face, but the little girl is gripping hard at Lexa’s shirt, trembling just slightly and Lexa feels fury light through her veins when Aden rushes to join them, wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders.

“Hey,” she tries to tame her voice, sound soft and calming rather than furious and smoothes down Miya’s dark hair. “Hey I’m back, what’s going on?” Her eyes dart to glare at Titus as his lip curls.

“This guy says he knows you Aunty Lexa,” he glances suspiciously at Titus, “and that he knows mom. Raven and Octavia were trying to tell him to go away… there was arguing. She got scared.”

“They were shouting,” Miya mumbles into Lexa’s shirt and Lexa hands the leash off to Aden so that she can crouch down in the grass and let Miya curl her arms around her neck. She runs a soothing hand up and down the girl’s back, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“I’m sorry they scared you Miya, Raven and Octavia were just trying to look after you.”

“I know,” Miya squirms out of her grip a little and her nose wrinkles, her eyes creasing as she looks at Titus, “but that man was scary. He wouldn’t go away.”

“He just wants to talk to me, he didn’t mean any harm.” The words feel stilted on her tongue and she squeezes Miya tightly in an attempt to persuade her. “I’ll always look after you, okay? No shouting, not any more.”

“I don’t like it when people get mad,” Her eyes are still wide and worried and Lexa swallows, nodding.

Her voice trembles just a little when she speaks, “no one is mad, I promise.”

“Okay,” slowly, tentatively, Miya lets her go enough that Lexa can stand and run a hand over her hair.

“Why don’t you and your brother go and find some sticks to throw for Comet?” She tries to smile brightly, but Titus’s eyes are burning into her, “he needs the exercise.” At Miya’s nod she glances over at Lincoln, “could you…?”

“Of course,” though he’s agreeable enough, Lincoln glances over at Titus warily and asks, “are you sure you don’t need me here?”

“We’ll be fine,” Lexa assures him, quiet but serious and Clarke’s hand on her shoulder makes her startle around in surprise. “Clarke, hey.”

“Hi, everything alright?” She is still pushing the stroller and Tris is happily engaged in sucking on her fist and babbling to the soft lion still clutched to her chest.

“Everything’s fine,” Clarke makes her feel immediately more at ease and she swallows, squaring her shoulders to face her foster father with a tight, polite smile. “Clarke, everyone, this is my foster father Titus. We know each other.”

“I see,” Octavia’s jaw is still tight with suspicion, eyes narrow and Raven nods at the newcomer with a sharp upwards tilt of her chin, lips pursed.

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke is cautiously polite, offering a wave which Titus ignores, his eyes fixed on Lexa’s form.

“This is Tris, your granddaughter,” Lexa adds, sharply and Titus’s gaze finally leaves her to settle on the baby in the stroller. His nose wrinkles a little and he nods.

“Charmed. I came here to speak with you, Lexa.”

“I’m sure you did,” she can’t help the bitter comment, heaving a deep breath and glancing back at Clarke and the others, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, could you keep an eye on everything here until then?”

“Of course,” Clarke is reaching down to calm Tris, who has started fussing and reaching for Lexa, but she’s fixed Lexa with a worried expression, brows creased and eyes flickering from Lexa to the man behind her. “Are you sure everything's okay?”

“Fine,” Titus supplies, succinctly and Lexa spares him a glare over her shoulder before turning back to Clarke.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Clarke nods, but Lexa can feel her eyes on her even as she turns to lead her step father away from the small clearing. They walk in silence onto the concrete path running close by and distantly Lexa hears Tris begin to wail for her and her heart pangs at the sound, her steps hesitating for just a moment before she continues. When they are far enough away not to be heard, Lexa comes to a stop and waits for Titus to round on her, crossing her arms and clenching her jaw as she braces herself for the onslaught.

She doesn’t have to wait long.

Titus draws himself up to his full height, his dark suit crisply ironed, cufflinks sparkling and briefcase set carefully next to his feet. He folds his hands behind his back and looks Lexa carefully up and down and she feels herself shiver just a little, pressing her lips together when she realises that he is seeing old jeans and a band shirt from her college days, her hair falling out from her braid to curl in strands around her face.

“I see you’re enjoying your day.”

“I was,” she puts, bluntly, pressing back a smile when a frown flickers over his face, “it’s a Saturday, we thought it would be fun to have a barbecue before the weather changes.”

“Very domestic.” Titus comments dryly and she presses her lips together, gathering herself before she speaks.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“This is the fastest way to the airport, I have a business flight in three hours.” He sniffs and looks back to where the kids are playing with Comet. “So, those are the children.”

Silence stretches out between them as Lexa attempts to not snap at him. “Yes,” she grinds out at last, “You met Aden once, when he was little. You probably don’t remember.”

“Of course I remember. You were fifteen and insisted on going to see your sister and she used you as a babysitter.”

“I _offered_ to babysit while she worked,” Lexa snaps back, sharply and Titus raises an eyebrow, infuriatingly calm.

“And it probably had an impact on your studies.”

“I was salutatorian! I had a half scholarship to _Yale_.”

“Yes,” his lips tighten, voice harsh and icy, “always almost there. And it’s always been your sister holding you back, just like it is now.”

“How can you say that?” She shakes her head, mouth agape, “you just saw those kids, they’re wonderful.”

“They’re children,” he corrects her, “you’re a loyal sister Lexa, but you’re making a mistake.”

“Is that all you’ve come here to tell me?” She demands, bristling, “because you’ve told me that numerous times on the phone, I don’t need to know again.”

“I just want you to think about it,” he reaches into his pocket and holds out a card to her, “the company is excellent, we could easily find a new home for the children.”

“You know as well as I do that they would get stuck in fostering, or worse separated.” Her lips curls with disgust and she pushes his hand back, “I promised Anya, and what’s more I _love_ those kids! They’re my nieces and nephew! _Your_ grandchildren, not that you ever wanted anything to do with Anya after it became clear that she wasn’t going to become your perfect angel!”

“Anya was troubled when I adopted you both,” he argues, hotly, “you were always far more sensible, far more well behaved.”

“You gave up on Anya the moment she got kicked out of boarding school.” Lexa retorts, darkly, “you could at least make up for it now by taking an interest in her _children_.”

“Anya’s made her own mistakes, neither you nor I should have to pay for them.”

“These kids aren’t _mistakes_ -”

“You’re being completely unreasonable Lexa-”

“Hey.” Clarke’s voice startles them both and Lexa turns to stare at her unseeingly for a moment. It’s only when a warm hand falls on her shoulder that she finally feels grounded and she blinks as warm blue eyes twist to glare at her foster father. “Everything okay here?”

“Fine-”

“This is family business,” Titus cuts in, sharply, “I’d appreciate it if you stayed out.”

“Titus!” Lexa takes a half step forwards, glowering, “Clarke has been more family to these kids than you have ever been.”

“Maybe you should go,” Clarke tells him cooly, cocking her eyebrows expectantly and Titus’s face tightens.

“Fine.” His eyes swing back to Lexa, “I’ll be in touch.”

“No,” she shakes her head, heart hammering in her chest. “Don’t bother unless you have something new to say. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me Titus, but I’m not going to change my mind. I like working to help people and I refuse to let these kids fall into the system, so unless you have something new to say… leave me and my family alone.”

Clarke’s fingers squeeze around her shoulder and she lets the girl draw her away, lets her swing an arm around her waist to support her as she turns her back on Titus and heads towards the three small faces waiting expectantly for her. Clarke offers her a smile and she lets out a shuddering breath, slumping a bit more heavily into her.

“Thank you,” she breathes out, so softly that she is surprised when Clarke answers.

“Any time.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know below or on tumblr what you think. This week has been hard for most of us, my inbox is always open if you need to talk. Stay safe, stay strong, stay passionate.


	5. October II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your comments last week, they were amazing! Enjoy this chapter, part two of October!

“You know if those kids weren’t so cute then I’d complain about you becoming a glorified babysitter,” Raven grouches through the phone and Clarke sighs softly, juggling her cup of coffee until she can press the device between her ear and shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry Rae,” she takes the corner of the sugar packet between her teeth, tearing it open and cursing softly when half of the packet tips over her lap. “ _Fuck_ \- okay listen Raven, I’ll ask Lexa when I get home, but she doesn’t usually ask me to pick the kids up from school so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to come round. I think something might have come up at work.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she can practically hear Raven rolling her eyes and presses back at a chuckle, “give the kids a hug from me, or a high five, that’s way cooler. How are they? Doing okay after that weird thing at the park?”

“Yeah, but Lexa took them to see their mom the other day so they’ve been kind of quiet.” She sits back in the driver’s seat, watching the clock on the dashboard click along and keeping a keen eye on the school door.

“Their mom?” Raven hesitates and her voice softens and colours with uncertainty, “I thought… is their mom not dead?”

Clarke chews on her lip, frowning and shakes her head even though Raven can’t see her, “I don’t… know? Lexa has never mentioned it and I don’t want to over step-”

“Well shit. Bit late to ask now.”

“I know,” she taps irritably against the steering wheel, “I’m just going to hope it slowly reveals itself.”

“Good luck with that,” Raven scoffs down the line and Clarke resists the urge to curse her out because she can see Miya running out of the school gate, her pigtails bouncing.

“I’ve got to go Rae, the kids are here, I’ll let you know if I can join you tonight.”

“Alright, see you Mary Poppins!”

She hangs up before Clarke can argue with her and Clarke huffs, stepping out of the car to wave at the excitable little girl, catching her unsteadily with her one free hand when Miya barrels into her legs.

“Clarke!”

“Hey kiddo,” she ruffles Miya’s hair, “your brother still insisting on getting the bus with his friends?”

“Yeah,” Miya pouts, “he won’t let me go with him, he says it’s for big kids.”

“You probably are a bit little to get the bus,” Clarke agrees, opening the back door and helping Miya up into her booster seat.

“I don’t care,” Miya settles happily in the booster seat, lifting her arms agreeably for Clarke to buckle her in. “He’s just a stupid big boy,” she keeps talking, wrinkling her nose as Clarke shuts her door and clambers into the driver’s seat. “I like driving with you, Clarke. And with Aunty Lexa,” she pauses, thinking for a second before asking, curiously, “where _is_ Aunty Lexa?”

“She asked me to pick you up,” Clarke clicks on the radio, flicking to a cheerful station before carefully pulling out of the parking lot, “we just need to get your sister and then we can probably beat your brother home.”

“Yeah!” Miya beams in the rear view mirror and Clarke can’t help the smile that quirks at her lips. “That means _I_ get TV time first!”

“He probably has homework to do,” she reasons, turning into the nursery parking lot. It only takes a few minutes to persuade the suspicious teacher that she is allowed to take Tris- she’s only convinced when the little girl reaches for her and babbles incoherently- but eventually the child is buckled into her seat beside Miya and they drive cheerfully home, accompanied by dreadfully out of tune singing from all three of them.

Lexa’s car is in the driveway, which gives Clarke pause and she frowns, glancing back at where Miya is chattering away to her and Tris is sucking on her thumb and clutching her toy lion. She helps Miya from the car and then scoops up Tris and her bag, making her way to where Miya is hopping back and forth on the porch impatiently to let them all in. Miya runs straight for the living room, dropping her stuff in a trail across the floor but Clarke ignores her for a moment, dropping the bag by the foot of the stairs and propping the baby on her hip to call out, uncertainly.

“Lexa?”

There’s no response apart from the clatter of tiny claws against the tile of the kitchen and Comet comes padding out, trotting over to her and whining softly. She rubs at his head distractedly, ruffling his ears but when he pulls away and whines again, barking sharply, she looks down at him. His eyes are wide and he is clearly agitated, glancing back at the kitchen door every few seconds and nudging at her hand.

Her stomach sinks, a pit of instinctive dread forming in her stomach that she has long since learned to trust and she tightens her hold around the baby. “What is it boy?” Her voice is soft and anxious, patting his head gently, “what’s going on?”

He leads them down the corridor and into the kitchen and through the doorway she spots Lexa’s figure, slumped over her work. Her head is heavy on the table, a cold cup of coffee beside her along with a trash can filled with used tissues. She is breathing heavily, clearly asleep and Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise. She deposits Tris on the table, keeping a careful eye on her, and touches hesitantly at Lexa’s hair and shoulders. Her skin is hot, her hair damp with sweat and Clarke curses quietly under her breath as the front door slams and raised voices come from the living room.

Pulling Tris back into her arms, she hurries through the arched doorway from the dining room to the living room to find the siblings facing off, the TV remote held tightly in Miya’s hands.

“I was here first so I get to choose!”

“But if I miss an episode it actually matters! My show has a plot!”

“So does mine!”

“You don’t even know what a plot _is_ -”

“Okay, quiet!” They both startle around to watch as she places Tris on her playmat.

“Clarke! Aden wants the TV, tell him it’s not fair because _I_ was here first and-” Miya whines, running over to grab at her arm pleadingly.

“But her shows are just some boring little kid stuff,” Aden argues over his little sister.

“Enough!” They fall silent at the sound of her shout, even the baby turns to look up at her with wide eyes, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm herself. “No one is watching television tonight.”

“What?” Aden’s face falls, his voice rising indignantly, “but Aunty Lexa always gives us at least an hour a night!”

“Well Lexa isn’t very well and she needs peace and quiet that _you two_ aren’t giving her,” Clarke glares down at them, “so you can either sit _quietly_ in here and play or _quietly_ in your rooms and play, but no television. That’s final.”

Aden looks like he wants to argue some more and Miya’s pout is trembling dangerously, but she turns her back to let them squabble quietly and hurries back to Lexa. Gently, she places a hand on the girl’s shoulder and urges her awake, squeezing and shaking until she eventually raises her head to stare groggily up at her.

“Clarke?” Her voice is scratched and broken and Clarke shakes her head, aghast.

“God you’re awful, I knew I should have made you stay at home today.”

“You were on a night shift,” Lexa still sounds vaguely deliriously, voice slurring and heavy with sleep and when she tries to shrug off Clarke’s concern she falls back into her chair with a thump, had lolling a little.

“Still, I knew you were sick before I left,” Clarke frets, feeling at Lexa’s forehead again. “You’ve got a fever, you need to go to bed.”

“I can’t,” Lexa waves her away, attempting to lever herself up but she stumbles back into her chair with a grunt and Clarke presses a hand to her shoulder to stop her getting back up again, “the kids, I have to pick them up…”

“I already did,” Clarke explains patiently, pushing a few strands of damp hair back behind her ear. “You texted and asked me to, remember?”

“I did?” Lexa frowns up at her, pupils blown and cheeks flushed and Clarke frowns anxiously.

“Clarke?” A small voice from the doorway pulls her attention away from her patient and she spins to see two faces looking up at her worriedly.

“Is Aunty Lexa okay?” Aden asks, tentatively, peering around Clarke to get a better look at the brunette.

“Yes,” she reassures them as gently as she can, “she just needs to go to bed and for you two to be very quiet, can you do that?”

They both nod fervently and she smiles, satisfied, and instructs them to look after their baby sister before ushering them back into the living room and swinging the door shut behind them. When she turns back Lexa is once again bent over her papers, sleeping, her fingers clutching a pen and Clarke sighs softly, shaking her head at the puppy who is still watching expectantly from the floor.

“You idiot,” she murmurs, shaking Lexa’s shoulder gently again to wake her and when slitted green eyes squint at her she says, soothingly. “Lex, you have to get some rest.”

“But… the kids…” Even as she protests Lexa allows herself to be helped from her seat, leaning heavily on Clarke’s shoulder as the blonde wraps an arm around her waist to help her.

“The kids are fine,” she promises and Lexa mumbles her assent, pressing her face against Clarke’s shoulder when she stumbles over herself. “The best thing you can do now is go to bed.”

“Bed?” Her dragging feet come to a stop and she pulls herself away from Clarke with a groan, eyes spinning back to the table in the dining room, “no… no I  can’t. I have work to do. I have to-”

“ _Nothing_ is more important than you resting right now,” she is gentle but firm with her patient and Lexa is slowly coaxed back around to the kitchen, avoiding the puppy bouncing along beneath their feet, and eased up the stairs. She collapses onto her own bed with a heavy sigh of relief and Clarke smiles a little when the girl flops back, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

She moves about quietly, fetching water and Tylenol while Lexa luxuriates in the feeling of a bed beneath her, but when she returns she finds that Lexa has curled herself into a little ball, fully dressed, and is preparing to fall back to sleep.

"Lex," she groans softly, taking her hands and urging her up from where she is slumped. "Wake up, come on, get into bed properly."

" _No_ ," Lexa whines pathetically, but allows Clarke to tug her upwards.

"Where are your pyjamas?" Lexa doesn't answer, but a little searching under the sheets finds neatly folded pyjamas that she presses carefully into Lexa's hands. "Here, put these on and then I'll come and check on you, okay?"

Lexa just groans as Clarke leaves the room and she hesitates outside for a few minutes, checking her watch and chewing on her lip anxiously, but she is almost unsurprised when she steps back inside to find Lexa with her pants on the floor, still in her work shirt, curled up under the blankets.

"Lex," Clarke can't help the slight smile that tickles at her lips when the girl whines quietly into her pillow. She seats herself gently next to Lexa and runs a hand over her hair, "I'm sorry," she apologises quietly and when Lexa twists to eye her curiously through one eye, she continues, "I really think you'll be more comfortable when you're in your pyjamas. Then take some medicine and I promise I'll let you sleep."

Lexa sighs, grumbling quietly under her breath, but glances up at Clarke again and acquiesces, leaning upwards to swing her legs off the bed and grope for her pyjama bottoms, crumpled in a ball near the end of the bed. She manages to pull them up her legs and onto her hips, but she is stalled fumbling with the second button on her shirt and Clarke catches her frustrated huff from where she is studiously trying to not look at her.

"Do you need help?" She asks, quietly and Lexa stares at her for a moment, hands still frozen on her button before nodding shakily and allowing her fingers to drop.

"Okay..." Carefully, trying to ignore the quiver in her hands, she crouches down between Lexa's sprawling legs and reaches up to ease the second button through its hole. She continues downwards, sliding through one button and then the next and when the dark material of Lexa's bra comes into view she feels herself let out a shudder of breath.

Lexa is tense beneath her and Clarke keeps checking that she is comfortable, eyes darting up and waiting for Lexa to stop her at every second, but Lexa's gaze stays steadily on her and when she undoes the next button, revealing the smooth, tanned skin of Lexa's stomach, they both shiver. Clarke hurries through the last few buttons, almost tearing them open in her haste. However, the sight of Lexa, hair ruffled and eyes lidded, her shirt hanging open to show soft skin and dark lace is almost too much for her and she has to turn quickly away to look for the pyjama top, trying to cool her burning cheeks and calm her racing heart.

When she finally finds it she shoves the material in Lexa's direction, resolutely turning her back on her until she thinks she's done changing and mercifully looks back to find Lexa dressed again and tucked beneath the covers.

"Here," she eases the Tylenol and water into her hands, urging her to drink and smiling when Lexa obeys, placing the glass on the table close by. "There, you'll start to feel better soon."

Lexa nods, eyes already flickering and Clarke smiles. She can't resist reaching out to brush back a final tendril of hair, but Lexa's fingers wrap around her wrist and she stills, staring down at the flushed brunette in surprise.

"Thank you," Lexa smiles at her sleepily, reluctantly relinquishing her hand to curl under the duvet and Clarke pulls her hand back, smiling despite herself.

"You're welcome Lex."

\----

The house is peaceful when the knock on the door disturbs them. Aden is helping her clean up from dinner, the front of his shirt splashed with water from his efforts and he turns, frowning at the door and then looking back at her. She purses her lips, throwing the dish rag over the back of a chair and pacing down the hallway to answer it, Aden hot on her heels. The pounding of tiny feet comes and Miya leans over the top of the banister, staring down with wide eyes at the door, her toothbrush still clutched in one hand.

Carefully, Clarke slides open the door and frowns at the smartly dressed woman on the other side, dark hands wrapped around a briefcase and hair cropped short, watching her with interest.

"Hello?" She stays hesitating in the doorway, pushing Aden back behind her body slightly. "Who are you?"

"Indra Montgomery," the woman holds out a hand and Clarke takes it reluctantly, her handshake weak beside the woman's hard grip. "I'm Lexa's boss. You must be Clarke."

"Oh," her expression clears and she feels herself slump with relief, stepping back, "I see yes, I'm Clarke. Would you like to come in? Lexa is asleep I'm afraid, she's not well."

"No no," Indra brushes her off, smiling slightly again, "that's why I came actually. I sent Lexa home earlier because she was unwell; I thought I might check in on my way home from the office."

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up and she smiles, pleasantly surprised, "Yeah, she's fine thanks. Well, she will be. I came home to find her asleep on her work, but she's been sleeping for a few hours and rest is really the best medicine. Thanks for sending her home."

"No problem," Indra shrugs, "she likes to overwork herself, but I know she needs the extra time, especially since..." she gestures a little awkwardly at where the kids are still watching her intently and Clarke flushes slightly, ushering them both away.

"Go to bed, kids."

"But it's only 7:30!" Aden protests, frowning but Clarke fixes him with a hard expression and says.

"That wasn't a question Aden, you heard me: sleep is good for you."

He slumps off, grumbling ,and she watches until they have both disappeared upstairs before turning back to Indra. "It's nice to meet you. Lexa doesn't talk about her work much."

"No," Indra muses, smirking just slightly, "she likes to have a work and home divide. She's not great at feeling incapable. I tried to tell her that when she got the kids she would need more time off, tried to _give_ it to her but she's determined to do her fill of the work, more if you count her pet project."

"Oh," Clarke smiles awkwardly, rubbing at the back of her head and trying not to look caught off guard, "yeah of course, her project."

"Well," Indra grabs her briefcase from where she'd set it down on the porch, "I'll leave you to it, but thank you for helping Lexa out, Clarke. She likes to wear herself to the bone, she needs someone to force her to moderate."

"Thanks for sending her home, she was wrecked when I got back. Not many bosses would be so nice." She shakes Indra's hand again and Indra shrugs as she turns to walk away.

"Lexa is both passionate and compassionate, they're traits I value. She's going to be a great lawyer one day and I intend to have helped her get there."

\---

She can feel her leg twitching under the desk, bouncing up and down like a nervous teenager. Her screen is worryingly blank in front of her and she brings the heel of her shoe down onto the wood panelling with a sharp click, placing her fingers on the keyboard and willing herself to write something- _anything_ \- for her upcoming briefing. Her head feels full, stuffed to the brim with worries and her shoulders are tight with tension as she watches the numbers of the clock in the corner of her screen tick steadily onwards. The cursor blinks mockingly down at her and she glances from the files spread out neatly to her left to the blank screen and lets out a small sigh.

“Everything alright, Lexa?” Her boss’s voice makes her startle and her spine straightens upon instinct, a wide, stiff smile lighting up her features when she lifts her eyes to see Indra’s concerned expression.

“Yes! Wonderful, Miss Montgomery. I’ll have those reports to you very soon.”

“I don’t need them for a few days yet,” Indra reassures her, pursing her lips and glancing from Lexa’s screen to her fingers tapping anxiously against the table. “You seem worried.”

“No! Not worried, not at all.” Lexa forces her fingers to stop moving and widens her smile almost manically.

“Weren’t you planning to leave early today?” Indra is unconvinced and Lexa hurries to reassure her, chest tightening at the sight of Indra’s doubt.

“I can stay, it’s absolutely fine.”

“Lexa,” Indra casts her gaze around the almost empty office, “it’s a sunny Friday, and I was going to send you home early anyway. Go be with the kids, have a good weekend.”

“I don’t need to,” she counters immediately, words rushing from her before she can stop them, “really, I am completely capable-”

“Your capability isn’t in question, Lexa.” Indra cuts her off, gentle but stern, “No one else is here, you aren’t needed at the moment. Take the opportunity to go home.”

“You don’t need me?” She is torn, eyes darting from the clock to Indra’s serious expression, but as four o’clock edges closer she can feel herself itching to shut her blank document.

“Not at the moment.” Indra is already stepping out of Lexa’s small cubicle. “Have a good weekend, Lexa. Enjoy Halloween.”

“I want to make sure you know I’m committed-” Lexa half rises to stop Indra, her frown tightening but Indra’s soft, deep chuckle cuts her off.

“No one could fault you for commitment, Lexa,” she shakes her head, her smirk fading into sincerity, “but having a family is all about balance, something you struggle with, so I am telling you, as your boss and your friend, _go home_.”

Indra’s court shoes click as she walks briskly back to her office and Lexa lingers for a moment, caught between sitting and standing as she watches her boss disappear before falling with a thump back into her desk chair, just catching herself when the wheels send her spinning across her cubicle. The tension is just sliding from her shoulders when she pulls up her phone and spies the numerous texts from Clarke.

_Have to work a few extra hours, can’t pick up the kids!_

_called Nosy Joan from next door but no answer_

_Margaret with the kittens says she can get them!!!_

_Aden called and said they’re all home safe, sorry!!!!_

“ _Jesus_.” She sweeps a hand through her hair, mouth falling open in horror, and shoves her few belongings in her bag as she rushes from the office.

The car ride is spent attempting to call the landline only for it to slide through the voicemail everytime, and her messages become more and more irate despite knowing that Aden has no idea how to pick up a message off the machine. By the time her car swings into the driveway, she is convinced that the house will be burnt to pieces. It’s mercifully intact, and when she skids through the front door she is greeted only by the sound of the tv and soft voices from the living room.

Pausing to sniff suspiciously at the air, she hurries through into the living room and pauses in the doorway. Aden looks up at her from where he is lounging on the floor watching cartoons and Miya can’t tear herself away from the complicated game she is playing with two dolls and a stuffed whale on the couch. Tris is gurgling on the playmat and she reaches her hands for Lexa when she sees her, lips stretching up in greeting.

“Aw, Aunt Lexa can we just have another fifteen minutes of tv time?” Aden begs as she steps quickly around him to pull Tris into her arms.

She turns to look at him, half dazed even as Miya pipes up in a whine. “No way! He’s already had over an hour Aunty Lexa! It’s my turn!”

“You’re playing with your toys!” Aden argues, loudly and when Miya’s lower lip trembles threateningly, Lexa cuts in.

“No more television for anyone.” She steps in front of the cartoon currently playing, ignoring Aden’s complaints. “Where is Margaret? The lady who picked you up?”

“She had a cat emergency,” Miya tells her simply, and Lexa suppresses the urge to snap.

“Right. And how long have you guys been here alone?”

“Only like twenty minutes. Don’t worry, Aunt Lexa,” Aden shrugs, leaning around her to see the tv again. “I told her you wouldn’t mind us being alone.”

“And _why_  did you tell her that?” She sidesteps so that Aden is forced to look back up at her again and he shrugs a little guiltily, refusing to meet her eyes when he mutters.

“We used to stay alone, I can look after them.”

“Your mom didn’t like you staying home alone and you know it,” Lexa counters, so sharply that Aden flinches a little, “what made you think I would be okay with it?”

“I can look after them, I’ve done it before!” He scowls at the floor, drawing patterns on the carpet with his fingers and Miya stares at them, her mouth hanging open and game paused midair as they argue.

“You shouldn’t _have to_ Aden, you’re a kid!” He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off, “now both of you go upstairs and get ready for our guest; she’ll be here in an hour. I want you both in your best.”

Miya reluctantly slides from the couch, gathering all of her things into her arms and Aden stands, muttering, “why do we have to look nice? I don’t like my dress pants, they’re itchy.”

“Because we need to make sure this lady know you’re taken care of, okay?” She scoops the baby up into her arms, “She wants to see that you’re safe here, and being looked after, or she’ll have to find you somewhere to live that does that better.”

“But you always look after us, Aunty Lexa,” Miya peeks her head from behind the pile of toys she has gathered in her arms. “No one else can do my hair in mommy’s special braids or reads me bedtime stories in your big bed so Tris doesn’t wake up-”

“What do you mean somewhere else to live?” Aden demands, bristling. “Mom wanted us to live with _you_.”

“Yes, well,” her throat is tightening dangerously, “the most important thing is that you’re safe and well, so we have to make sure the lady who comes knows that you are so we can all keep living together.”

“What about Comet?” As if on cue, the puppy bounds into the room, barking excitedly and startling Tris into a few hiccoughing wails. “What would happen to him if we moved?” Aden asks anxiously.

“Could we take him with us?”

“Well, no-” Lexa bounces the baby gently, trying to shoo the enthusiastic dog away with her free hand. “He would probably stay with me.”

“But then he’d still be with us? But we’d all be in a new house?” Miya’s big eyes stare up at her expectantly and she struggles for the right words, hushing the rapidly growing cries of the baby in her arms.

“Well, that’s not exactly how it works-”

“They’d send us to another home, Miya,” Aden tells her bluntly and when Lexa looks at him he is hunched, his shoulders sharp and his brows furrowed worriedly, “we wouldn’t live with Aunt Lexa anymore.”

“What?” Miya stares at her, aghast and a few of her toys fall from her arms to reveal her quivering chin. “B-But we have to stay with you! That’s how we see mommy! Don’t you want us anymore?”

“What? No!” The situation feels as if it is spiralling out of control and she drops into a crouch, balancing Tris, to hold her arm out for Miya to rush to her side. “Of course I do, I _always_ want you,” her eyes meet Aden’s and she smiles softly, “even when you argue with me. We just have to show this lady that you’re doing well here so she’ll let us stay together, do you understand that?” Miya nods haltingly, her eyes glassy with tears. “Okay, the best way to do that is by looking and acting our best. That’s why I want you to go and put your nice clothes on and I’ll make us a lovely dinner to all eat together and you can tell the nice lady all about your day at school. Sound good?” Miya nods and she stands slowly, careful of the baby. “Okay, let’s do this.”

\---

Clarke steps into the house after a 16 hour shift to pandemonium. She can hear the shouting before she’s even got the door open and she creeps quietly into the entryway, cringing at the raised voices coming from the living room. Lexa is in the kitchen on her hands and knees in her nice slacks and shirt, scrubbing at the floor with a grim expression on her face and Clarke hesitates for a moment between the woman in the kitchen and the screaming kids, before bracing herself to face the argument.

Aden and Miya are yelling at one another, Miya stood on the couch with her fists balled, her tiny face red with exertion. Tris sits on her playmat, screaming, tears streaking down her cheeks and onto her white dress and blue cardigan and Clarke stares between them all for a moment before yelling.

“ _Shut up_!”

They all come to a sudden stop. Even Tris hesitates over her cries, catching her breath as she stares at Clarke in the doorway. Miya and Aden are both gaping at her and she fixes them with the fiercest glare she can manage as she stalks through them to collect Tris into her arms and cradle her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Clarke, Miya-”

She gives Aden a sharp look reminiscent of her mother, and his mouth shuts with a snap. “Did I say I wanted to know?” Her voice is icily cold, and she gestures at Miya, “Get down from there.” The little girl jumps obediently from her perch on the couch. “I don’t care why you were arguing,” she informs them, bluntly, “I want to know why your aunt is scrubbing the kitchen on her own when you have an important guest coming in half an hour.”

“Comet ate the dinner Aunt Lexa was making,” Aden confesses, sheepishly glancing at the puppy who is sprawled on the living room floor, chewing happily on his bone.

“Then he threw up all over the kitchen,” Miya adds, quietly and Clarke can’t help the groan that escapes her.

“All because _somebody-”_ Aden casts a scathing glance at his sister, “- didn't let him out when she was meant to.”

Miya’s mouth falls open in indignation. “It _wasn't my turn-”_

“Stop!” They fall silent again and the puppy looks up at her, all wide eyes and perfect innocence and she rolls her eyes. “Right. You’re both on time out.”

“ _What_?”

“I’m _ten_!”

“Then you’d better start acting like it,” she retorts,.“Aden you’re on the bottom step and Miya go and sit at the dining room table. Ten minutes in silence, thinking about how unhelpful you’ve been to your aunt.”

They both slope off, grumbling, and she watches them go, letting out a relieved sigh when they disappear.

“Right then,” she turns to the puppy, patting her leg for him to follow her and paces out of the hall and into the kitchen.

Lexa looks up on her approach, skin slightly flushed and damp with sweat, hair curling in tight tendrils up from her forehead, as if grasping to escape her neat, practical bun. “Clarke,” she brushes the back of her hand against her forehead, eyes wide with surprise as she watches Clarke usher the puppy out of the back door and into the garden. “What are you doing home? I thought you had a gym class after work?”

“It was only yoga.” Clarke rolls her eyes, repositioning her bag uncomfortably on her shoulder and frowning. “I was too tired–anyway, that’s not important.”

“No, well, we’ve had some… incidents here.” Lexa glances down at the soapy floor in front of her, wrinkling her nose in disgust, but there is an air of tension to her, a buzz that runs under her skin. “What time is it?”

“Four thirty.”

“ _Fuck_ -”

“Lexa, calm down,” she reaches out a hand when Lexa begins her frenzied cleaning again, “let me finish cleaning this up, you need to get dressed.”

“I am dressed.” Lexa stares at her blankly before slowly following Clarke’s gaze down to her water splattered shirt. A moment of silence passes between them, before she finally hums, quietly. “Ah, I see.”

Clarke presses back a small laugh, smiling down at her as she offers out a hand to help Lexa up. Lexa’s fingers are wet and warm around hers, slippery with soap and Clarke tightens her grip a little as the woman clambers to her feet, brushing down her shirt and cringing.

“Clarke,” Lexa begins apologetically, eyes soft with uncertainty, but Clarke cuts her off.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve cleaned far worse than this at the hospital.”

“Still,” Lexa hesitates, “it’s really not your problem.”

“Hey,” she squeezes Lexa’s fingers gently, catching her gaze as she continues, earnestly, “how many times do I have to tell you that I care about this family?” Lexa’s lips slip up into a small smile, gentle and relieved, eyes sparkling with mirth when Clarke continues, “anyway, it was me who bought the dog so-”

Lexa chuckles and, still sitting patiently against her hip, Tris giggles too, reaching the hand that isn’t curled against Clarke’s neck out for her aunt.

“It is officially your dog,” she agrees at last, wiping her free hand against her slacks and catching Tris’s fingers in hers. “Thank you, Clarke.”

“It’s no problem,” despite herself, she can feel her cheeks heating when Lexa’s grateful gaze falls on her and she tentatively untangles their hands on the pretense of hitching Tris more securely into her arms.

“I-I should go and get dressed,” when Clarke peeks at her from beneath her lashes, Lexa’s cheeks are dusted with pink too and she has to take a second to gather herself before she responds.

“Yeah, you don’t want to be wet when she gets here.” Too late, she hears her words and her blush darkens furiously as Lexa bites on her lip to stifle a laugh.

“Thank you,” she calls back, as she hurries away down the hallway and Clarke can’t relax until she’s disappeared up the stairs.

Tris is smiling at her, flailing her hands a little and she makes a soft _oh_ when her palm smacks against her forehead. Clarke huffs out a laugh, shaking her head as she turns to survey the puddle of water on the kitchen floor.

“Yeah,” she murmurs to the toddler, “me too kid.”

\---

It’s less jarring than it used to be to descend the stairs to the smell of food cooking and a calm household, but Lexa still feels her heart flutter when she rounds the stairs and spots Clarke in a clean kitchen, the baby in her highchair, cooking a pot of pasta. Miya is sat at the kitchen table, Aden perched on the counter watching her cook and they are talking pleasantly, Miya cradling Mr Bunny like a baby in her arms. Lexa hesitates for a moment in the doorway, leaning a hip against the doorframe to survey the scene with a flush of relief and–upon turning to Clarke–barely disguised awe.

Tris is the first to notice her and bangs her fists on the little plastic table jutting out from her high chair. Miya and Aden beam angelically at her and Clarke glances over her shoulder cast her a welcoming smile.

“Looking much better, Lex.”

“Much drier,” she comments wryly, smiling softly as she nudges herself away from the doorframe and lopes across the kitchen, running a hand over Tris’s soft, sandy hair in greeting. “Hey baby.”

Clarke glances over her shoulder, frowning and opening her mouth to respond, before realisation crashes clearly into her and she hurries back to cooking. Lexa feels herself flush hotly and she rushes to speak, just as Clarke explains.

“I was talking–”

“I thought you were–”

They both fall silent, staring at each other before Miya blessedly decides to break the tension, hopping out of her chair to round the table and tug on Lexa’s hand, her teddy clutched close.

“Aunty Lexa,” she begins, her voice trembling, “I’m sorry me and Aden weren’t helpful.”

“You are?” Lexa glances over at Clarke in amazement and finds the blonde ducking her head, a secret smile hiding at the corners of her lips.

Miya nods earnestly and Aden speaks up from the counter, press one foot awkwardly against the other. “Yeah, sorry Aunt Lexa.”

“That’s okay.” She pats Miya’s head gently and gives her nephew a small smile. “We were all worried. Are you guys ready for the social services lady?”

“Yes!” Miya trots back around to her seat, clambering onto it and swinging her feet below her. “I know just what I’m going to tell her!”

“What’s that?” Lexa can’t help the amused smile that ghosts over her lips.

“That I got a part in the school play today!” Miya beams at them all, clearly pleased with the surprised reaction she creates.

Lexa’s mouth drops open in surprise and her eyes widen. “You did?” Her gaze flickers to where Clarke has paused stirring the dinner to look at Miya, “did you know?”

“I didn’t.” Clarke blinks at her, shrugging and turning back to the little girl. “What’s the play, darling? What part did you get?”

“It’s just some stupid kindergarten play they do every year,” Aden puts in with a roll of his eyes, and Lexa cuts in before an argument can escalate.

“I’m sure it’s not. What part did you get, Miya?”

“I’m a pumpkin.” Miya beams at them and then explains, wearily, in the face of their confusion, “in the Thanksgiving dinner!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Clarke casts Lexa a sidelong glance, and she can tell the blonde is trying not to laugh. “Of course!”

“That’s brilliant, Miya! Are you pleased?”

Miya nods, “Billy Jones got the turkey because he’s so fat–” Lexa opens her mouth to reprimand, but Miya barrels onwards without taking a breath. “But Martha is a string bean which is _so boring_ so I’m glad I’m a pumpkin-” she pauses to take breath and falter, pausing to look up at Lexa skeptically. “You _can_ make a pumpkin costume right Aunty Lexa?”

Aden snorts at the look of panic that flickers across Lexa’s face, even as she answers shakily,“Y-Yes, I can… give it a shot.”

“I’ll help,” Clarke puts in kindly and Lexa’s grateful glance is enough to make her smile again, “you’ll be the prettiest pumpkin in the patch Miya, promise.”

\---

The woman from Child Protective Services–Darcy Redwood–is small, almost drowned by her knitted cardigan and dwarved by large, thick rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. She insists on a full tour of the house and lets Miya lead her about it with a beaming face. She questions Lexa on property maintenance, carbon monoxide alarms and the age of the boiler, inspects the children’s rooms with a careful eye and asks about recent medical checks. Lexa feels as if she is on trial, answers each question as thoroughly as she can and it’s only when they settle in the living room that she finally gets onto talking to the kids. Darcy makes Lexa sit to one side and collects the kids on the couch, Tris in Aden’s lap, to ask them every question under the sun about their time in Lexa’s house. She never calls it home, and it makes Lexa bristle every time.

The kids, _thank god_ , choose to play along. Aden answers awkwardly about school, talks more enthusiastically about soccer and his friends at school. He explains their bi-weekly visits to their mother and when Darcy frowns and notes something down, he glances anxiously to Lexa, who offers a nervous thumbs up. Miya happily chatters about kindergarten– her friends, her teachers, her upcoming pumpkin costume– and then offers to give Darcy a long tour of her stuffed animals.

“And how do you feel about seeing mommy?” Darcy asks, pen poised and Miya seems to stumble over her words, falling silent for a moment, little brows pulling together.

“I miss mommy. Aunty Lexa says she might come home in a few years but that’s a very long time.”

“Really?” Darcy’s eyes narrow and flicker to Lexa disapprovingly. “Well, Miya, I don’t think you should count on that. Mommy will probably be gone for a long time.”

Miya’s brows crumple further and Aden glares at Darcy, pulling an arm around his sister when she shrinks over the teddy held in her arms.

The knock on the door startles them all from the intensely awkward silence, and Clarke pokes her head around the door to smile uncertainly.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, just wanted to say dinner is ready when you guys are.”

“And you are?” Darcy looks down to her notepad again, frowning. “The roommate, I suppose?”

“Yes.” Clarke steps fully around the door, holding out a hand. “Clarke Griffin, good to meet you.”

Darcy stands to shake her hand stiffly, though she relaxes when her eyes slide down her scrubs. “You’re a doctor?”

“Oh,” Clarke glances down at herself, flushing when she sees what she’s wearing. “Oh sorry, I forgot I was even wearing these. They’re clean, I promise.”

“No, it’s actually very good to have a doctor in the house- you’re checked to work with children and vulnerable people, I expect?”

“I am,” Clarke nods firmly, “I can provide any documentation you need, character statements, whatever.”

“This isn’t a trial Miss Griffin,” Darcy’s lips quirk sardonically. “Perhaps you could take the children into the kitchen, while Miss Woods and I have a talk?”

“Uh–” Clarke’s eyes flicker uncertainly to Lexa. “Yes, I can do that. Come on, kids.” She herds them off the couch, taking Tris into her arms to lead the way to the kitchen. Aden pauses, the last one out of the door, and looks anxiously between Lexa and Darcy.

“It’ll all be fine, Aden.” Lexa rises from her seat, casting him a reassuring smile, though he seems unconvinced as he slips from the room.

Darcy looks down at her notes for a few moments, flicking through them quietly and Lexa’s fingers tangle together in front of herself, wringing them anxiously. Finally Darcy deigns to look up at her, humming softly. “This mostly seems good, Miss Woods.”

Lexa feels herself deflate, sighing out in relief. “Oh good. I’ve tried to provide as stable a home as possible-”

“Yes, the formalities are all seen to, everything is up to scratch,” Darcy’s lips pull together into a thin frown that seems to suck at her cheeks and Lexa feels her stomach drop in dread. “But I must say, I’m not sure how healthy your relationship with the children’s mother is.”

“W-What do you mean? She’s my sister-“

“She’s also a felon, Miss Woods. While we encourage as close a relationship between mother and child as possible, this is a rather exceptional case. Their mother is violent-”

Lexa feels rage bubbling up in her chest, spilling from between her clenched teeth without her say-so. “You know that it’s not as simple as that!”

“I have to go by the letter of the law. As it currently stands, their mother is a violent felon. And while we’re on the subject, your insistence that their mother will return soon is not healthy if they are to adjust to their current living situation.”

“But she _may_ return sooner than they think,” Lexa can feel the panic in her voice, “I’m trying to-“

“I know how intimately involved you are.” Darcy gives her a harsh glance, “and I worry that this… involvement keeps the children too stuck in their old life, making them unable to accept their current situation in this house, with you.”

“I’m sure that isn’t-”

“This isn’t a discussion Miss Woods, merely feedback that you should take onboard. Try to disconnect yourself from your sister.” She pauses for a moment, glancing at her notepad. “There’s has been no word from Mr Walter, but you should be aware that if he _were_ to make himself known as a possible guardian to the children, we would have to consider him. He acted as a father to them for almost a year.”

“He won’t turn up.” Lexa puts in bluntly and, at Darcy’s raised eyebrows, continues.,“He won’t. He has no interest in them, he made that completely clear.”

“I see,” Darcy hums, “well, regardless. If he does step into the picture, he will have to be considered. Now, shall we join them for dinner?”

\---

“Clarke, what _is_ this?”

Lexa stands in her room, staring aghast at the outfit laid out on her bed for her. She can hear the excited chattering of children outside, Miya and Aden running about between his room and the landing as they play and Clarke’s voice comes from the room next door.

“What?”

Lexa huffs out softly, turning to call through the open door. “I _said_ what is this?”

“What’s _what_?” Clarke shouts back infuriatingly and Lexa groans, spinning to stride from the room before Clarke appears suddenly in the doorway, and she is struck dumb by the sight of her.

“What are you wearing?”

“You like it?” Clarke beams, spinning and making the baby in her arms giggle. She is dressed in a long white robe-esque outfit, her hair pinned up into two buns at either side of her head. “I’m Princess Leia! I wasn’t into the whole gold bikini idea. It’s October, after all.” She wrinkles her nose.

“And what about Tris?” Lexa reaches out for the baby, aghast and takes her into her arms, staring down at the blue and white onesie and tiny cap perched on her head. “What has she _done_ to you darling?”

“Get out, she’s R2D2! It’s adorable!” Clarke tickles the baby under her chin, making her squirm and burrow into Lexa’s grip. “Now, what’s the problem?” Clarke glances at the outfit on the bed. “Everything looks fine.”

“When you said you wanted us to dress up, I didn’t think you meant to quite this extent.” Lexa carefully straightens the cap on Tris’s head.

“It’ll be fun,” Clarke tells her firmly, “the kids will _love it_ , and the parents! We’ll get so much candy.”

“Yes,” Lexa hums anxiously, eyes darting out to where the kids are playing, before swinging her attention back to Clarke. “But I’m not really… up for a big Halloween Clarke. I’ve been distracted recently.”

“I know,” Clarke frowns, stepping away to slide the door shut. “I know Darcy Redwood freaked you out, Lex, but you have to try to move past it. You’re a great mom to these kids I don’t know what she said to get you like this., but you have to trust that I know what I’m talking about.”

Lexa swallows, the pit of worry lodged into her throat growing when Clarke carefully takes Tris from her arms and rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

“Trust me and put on your Han Solo outfit, okay?”

The knock to the door startles them both and Lexa turns in time to see Miya and Aden barrelling into the room. Miya is bedecked in strips of white cloth- torn from an old bedsheet- her hair piled into three buns and a staff made of bunched up brown paper in her hands and Aden is proudly wearing the replica of Finn’s jacket found for a steal on eBay. They are bright eyed and practically bouncing with excitement, though Aden groans when he sees Lexa.

“Aunt Lexa  you’re not even dressed yet!” He complains and Lexa catches the laugh that Clarke stifles.

“Fine, fine,” she gives Clarke a sidelong glare and turns back to the outfit on the bed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Then we can go trick or treating?” Miya demands and Lexa lets out a long suffering sigh.

“Yes, then we can go trick or treating.”

The kids let out whoops of excitement, returning to the landing to play, and Lexa accosts Clarke before she leaves, giving her a playful scowl.

“This is all your fault, Griffin.”

“Better hurry, Captain,” she hitches Tris further into her arms, laughter sparkling in her eyes, “we need someone to pilot the Millennium Falcon.”

“You haven’t-” Lexa’s eyes widen in alarm and she follows Clarke to the door, “no, Clarke wait, that stroller is _expensive_!”

She is met only by loud laughter.

\---

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought below or over on tumblr (@onemilliongoldstars)! Sidenote: if you want to see my pinterest board for this fic I'm "rahchah" over there, it's where I get all of the pictures for the picspams I post at the end of the fics and also has a lot of other boards for unpublished/unwritten fics. Let me know if you look at it!


	6. November I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you as always for your amazing comments last chapter!

_ November _

Clarke wakes to the heavy, harrowing feeling of a hangover wrapping around her temples and squeezing. Her mouth feels as if it’s coated in fluff and when she turns to peer at the alarm clock on the nightstand, she sees that it’s only 9:30 and lets out a soft groan. A knock comes on the door, hesitant and uncertain, clearly the cause of her early morning wake up and she lets out a garbled sound that is somewhere close to an entreaty to come in and the band around her forehead tightens, leaving her groping for the bottle of water on her nightstand. She can hear the faint sounds of a TV and children’s voices, now so familiar to her, and hitches herself up enough in the bed to see that Lexa is stood in the open doorway.

There is a steaming cup of coffee in her hands and she has her hair up in a ponytail, her running leggings and a college sweater thrown on. The sweater is too big and slides across her thin collarbone, where Clarke can see the strap of a grey sports bra peeking out. Her cheeks flush at the sight, like a teenage boy in a junior school classroom and she tears her eyes away, managing a grateful smile in Lexa’s direction.

“Is that for me?” Her voice is embarrassingly croaking and Lexa does her the service of not commenting apart from the quirk of her lips. Instead she only nods, pausing beside the bed and passing it into Clarke outstretched hands. “You  _ life saver _ , thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were awake, but I know you have a shift at twelve so I thought it was best to try waking you.” Lexa hesitates beside the bed, lingering awkwardly above her.

“Fuck, yeah.” Clarke takes a sip of the coffee, hissing when it burns her mouth and hitches herself across the bed. “Sit down.”

“Are you sure?” Lexa asks, but is already sitting down as Clarke nods, sliding off her shoes to bring her feet up onto the bed. “So,” she finally grins at Clarke, “good night?”

“Judging by the size of my hangover?” Clarke lets out a throaty, painful laugh and Lexa rubs at her shoulder when she cringes. “It must have been.”

“Here,” Lexa reaches into her pocket and passes over a packet of aspirin.

“Thanks.” Clarke’s fingers brush against hers as she takes them and she cringes, washing two down with the steaming coffee. “I wasn’t noisy last night, right? I didn’t wake you guys?” She asks, suddenly stricken.

Lexa only smiles, shaking her head, “No, we were completely undisturbed,” she assures her and then, after a second of hesitation, “I wasn’t sure… if you had come home? Or if you would be… elsewhere this morning.”

“No,” Clarke can’t quite meet her eyes, “no, I’m here.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Lexa laughs awkwardly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. “I mean, it makes sense. What with having work at 12.”

“Oh yeah, exactly.” Clarke offers a weak smile, nodding, and bites her tongue to refrain from telling Lexa that it’s thoughts of dark hair and full lips, fingers sticky with finger paint and cheeks covered in flour, that keep her from ending up in any bed other than her own.

Lexa nods with her, wrapping her arms around her middle and Clarke rolls her eyes, ushering her off the comforter so that she can pull it from beneath her body and hold it open in invitation. Lexa stalls again, eyes flickering from Clarke to the creased bedsheets and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“I’m totally clothed Lex, don’t worry.”

“That wasn’t my worry,” Lexa retorts, but her cheeks heat and she slides beneath the covers, tugging them up around her waist and folding her hands primly in her lap, dragging a smile from Clarke.

“Where are the kids?” The coffee has cooled enough now that she can cradle it comfortably.

“Watching TV,” Lexa shifts to look at her, relaxing a little. “Aden has soccer practice this morning, but he got a carpool with Ben’s mom. I said I’d bring them home.”

“He doesn’t want you there watching practice?” Clarke frowns, curling her feet up and when her bare toes brush against Lexa’s legs she freezes for half a second, before forcing herself to relax, letting her foot rest close enough to feel the heat of Lexa’s skin.

When Lexa speaks she sounds slightly stilted and distracted. “No, he’s way past that novelty. I’m too embarrassing now. He has a match in a few weeks that he wants us both at though.”

“Not the same day as Miya’s play, right?” Clarke frowns, though her face slackens when Lexa shakes her head. “Good, and have you got that off work?”

Lexa snorts, rolling her eyes, “I think Indra would go herself if I wasn’t there. Nothing should come up.”

“Good,” Clarke’s eyes flicker to the mass of card and orange paint in the corner, “because her costume is going to be  _ fabulous. _ ”

“It’s very good of you to do this for her-“ Lexa pauses, frowning at the pile of craft supplies. “Clarke, is that glitter?”

Clarke presses her lips together, trying not to laugh, “Octavia and I promise it will be very tasteful.”

“Please don’t make her into some Toddlers and Tiaras spectacle,” Lexa begs despairingly, and Clarke laughs, nudging at her side until Lexa relents to the tickles and giggles, squirming away.

“Would I ever?”

“Yes!” Lexa is smiling despite herself and Clarke, fuelled by a second of bravery and the alcohol still lingering in her system, hitches closer to lean her head against Lexa’s shoulder.

It is awkward and stiff for a moment as they both become accustomed with the sudden closeness of their bodies, but neither of them move away and eventually Clarke says quietly,

“You could come out with us next time, you know. Get a babysitter. You don’t have to be in mom mode all the time.”

“I’m not sure I know how to switch it off any more,” Lexa admits, laughing, but her arm slides up between Clarke’s back and the bedframe and curls around her shoulders loosely. When she speaks again her voice is very soft. “But thank you for the offer.”

There is quiet, a moment of blessed stillness in which she revels at the feeling of Lexa’s arm, warm and heavy, wrapped around her shoulders. The coffee cup rests against her leg, her fingers loose around the blue ceramic and she can feel Lexa’s steady breaths, hear the just-too-fast beat of her heart. She smells of jasmine and pinewood and some sweet, soft child-like smell that seems to linger around all mothers- even pseudo ones- and Clarke is almost overwhelmed by the soft affection rearing its head in her chest like an untamed beast.

The door swings open and children pile abruptly through the door. They spring apart guiltily, like teenagers in the back of an old jeep, and Clarke jerks so sharply away that the coffee cup goes flying, spilling dark liquid across the comforter. The children halt in the doorway, alarmed by the sudden eruption of chaos and stare as they speak over each other.

“Oh God, Clarke I’m so sorry-“

“No it was my own fault-”

“I’ll clean it up for you-”

“Are you having a slumber party?” Miya asks, finally and their heads whip around theatrically to stare at her. Miya pouts and puts Tris on the floor, where the baby begins to crawl across towards the pile of laundry close by. “Aunty Lexa says I’m too little for slumber parties.”

“That’s because you are.” Lexa launches herself from the bed, crossing the room in a few long paces to scoop up the baby and toss Clarke a dirty towel to mop up the spreading coffee.

“So what  _ were  _ you doing?”

“Just talking.” Clarke casts a nervous glance at Lexa and tries not to smile at the flush that is creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

“But you’re all red-” Miya begins and Lexa cuts through her with a brisk authority that reminds Clarke unerringly of her own mother.

“Come on Miya, we’re taking Comet for a walk.”

\---

Lexa returns from work one cold November evening to the welcoming sight of a house blazing with light. She shrugs off her coat and glances into the living room to see Miya and Aden watching TV together, blessedly peaceful. In the kitchen stands Clarke, wrapped in an apron, the baby on the counter beside her and the image is so sweet that Lexa can’t quite summon up the energy to be angry at the coating of flour that dusts almost every surface, tracked through with paw prints.

Clarke dusts the baby’s cheeks with flour, laughing when Tris sneezes and giggles and she turns when Lexa knocks against the doorway, her face falling.

“You’re home early! We wanted to have the pie done by the time you were home!”

“You seem to be making excellent progress,” Lexa laughs, eyeing the mess, and Clarke rolls her eyes, swinging Tris up into her arms to press a raspberry to her cheeks, which makes her squeal and kick her legs.

“Well, we were doing quite well, but my glamorous assistant here is very distracting,” Clarke frowns at the baby and Tris, oblivious, laughs again and presses two flour coated hands to Clarke’s cheeks, giggling raucously at the effect.

Lexa keeps herself glued to the doorway in an attempt to stop herself winding her arms around Clarke’s waist and kissing away the handprints.

\---

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Lexa can’t help but ask again, wrapping her coat further around herself to keep out the chilly air.

“Mind?” Raven laughs, shaking her head and swinging her long hair across her shoulder. In one hand she is holding Miya’s hat and scarf, which she refuses to wear despite the cold, and in the other she is holding the much abused bunny toy. Aden is stood with his sister and Octavia near the fence of the monkey enclosure and Lexa watches from the corner of her eye as Octavia heaves the little girl into her arms to help her see over the high fence. “It’ll be fun Lex!”

“Fun?” She peers around Raven at the two children again, “really?”

“Come on, Lexa,” fingers wrap around the crook of her elbow, tugging her unerringly away from the two older children. “They wouldn’t have offered if they didn’t want to.”

“Really,” Raven assures her, shrugging her shoulders, “we  _ like _ the kids, we’ll happily take them to see the monkeys, but I’m not sure how much this one will like them.” She gestures down to where Tris is sitting sleepily in her stroller, her thumb lodged in her mouth, hands wrapped tightly around the lion teddy.

“They’ll be too noisy, it’ll scare her,” Clarke agrees, tugging again at Lexa’s arm. “They’ll be fine, I promise.” She turns her attention to Raven, “meet you again in 45 minutes?”

“We’ll be here.” Raven gives them a mock salute and then turns back to Octavia and the kids as Clarke drags Lexa a few paces back towards the stroller.

“Come on,” she urges again, more gently and Lexa watches the children disappear around the corner before finally letting out a breath and following Clarke.

“I kind of can’t believe our luck,” She admits, a smile creasing at her eyes and when Clarke laughs softly she feels a thrill of mirroring joy in her stomach. “We ended up with the easy one.”

“I know.” Clarke relinquishes her control on the stroller to Lexa and crouches down close to the baby. “What do you want to see, hmm?”

Tris just sucks her thumb, looking back to her with drooping eyelids, and Lexa smiles down at her fondly.

“How about the fish?” She suggests, “it’s dark and warm, she’ll nod off in there.”

Clarke nods her agreement and they start towards the exhibition, talking quietly.

“I didn’t expect her to need a nap today,” Lexa admits, as they pass the sealions, “she hasn’t wanted one for a while and she slept for hours last night.”

“She’s been sleeping through the night well,” Clarke agrees, pushing her hands into her pockets. “Should we start to potty train her, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Lexa runs a hand over her forehead and glances at Clarke with a smile, “I’m not sure I can face it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Clarke steps back to allow her into the dark confines of the aquarium first, smoothly pausing to help her carry the stroller down the few steps. They walk in silence for a few minutes, gazing at the bright fish flickering with silver scales through brightly lit boxes. They pause to peer in at two bobbing seahorses and Clarke says, softly, the flush on her cheeks illuminated by the startling white light. “Thank you, by the way, for last Saturday… with the coffee and the advil.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa smiles at her, bemused by her soft uncertainty. “Where did you go, out of curiosity? It’s been a while since I did anything like that.”

“Had fun?” Clarke counters as they steer away from the seahorses and Lexa gives her an affronted glance.

“What are we doing right now, Clarke?”

She laughs again, a sound of frank, unfettered enjoyment and then says, “it was Judy’s that we went to, well,” she pauses to think, “we went other places, but Judy’s did the damage.”

“Judy’s?” Lexa struggles to gather her jaw from the floor and she is sure that her desperate attempts to sound cool and casual are coming off as stilted and jarring. “The- the gay bar?”

“Yeah,” Clarke gives her a careful look, brows tightening slightly and her voice shifts into a higher pitch, a defensive rambling, “it’s the best place to meet girls and guys, y’know, which is what I want.”

Lexa can feel herself flushing, can feel the heat building up her neck and down her ears, transferring to static stuffed in her head and around her brain, the only excuse she has to blurt out, moronically. “I date girls.”

That statement falls heavily between them, awkward and uncomfortable, like a stone caught between the soft, malleable flesh of a sole and the bottom of a shoe. Clarke blinks at her, hesitating for a few moments and before the earth can open up and swallow her, finally says.

“Oh. Right. Cool.”

Just when Lexa thinks that the following awkward silence will consume them both, Clarke speaks again.

“When was the last time you actually dated?”

“Oh,” Lexa can feel herself heating again, is remarkably close to declaring herself a new global energy source with the internal combustion she seems to be experiencing. “A while.”

Clarke casts her a sceptical, sidelong glance. “How long is that?”

“About… two years.” Lexa cringes under her outraged gasp. “It’s not that long!”

“You’re too distracted by work and the kids!” Clarke scolds, “you need to take time for yourself!”

“Well, when was the last time  _ you  _ dated?” Lexa demands.

“Before I moved in with you guys,” Clarke retorts, smartly, “he was kind of a dick.”

“He-he was?” The words make her stumble and hesitate, chewing on her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke shrugs easily, “we lived together which is why I was so eager to move in when you offered me the room. You guys are a huge improvement.”

“Really?” Lexa smiles weakly, “even with formula in the fridge and muddy soccer balls in the hall?”

“All part of your charm,” Clarke’s answering smile is warm and full and she slides her arm around Lexa’s, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to her cheek. “And I’m serious you know, I know these kids are kind of your life but you need to put yourself out there a bit. A girl would be lucky to have someone like you.”

“I’m not sure anyone is going to want to date a girl with three kids in tow.”

“Buy one, get three free,” Clarke’s hand squeezes at her arm. “And any girl who turned down someone as caring and sweet as you is an idiot.”

Lexa wonders who she has to call about solving the global energy crisis, so hot are her cheeks.

\---

They arrive five minutes ahead of time, at Lexa’s insistence, outside the gift shop to wait for the rest of their group. The gift shop is loud and bright, but the park itself is quiet thanks to the lateness of the month and the slight cold breeze that has everyone in California reaching for their jackets and hats.

“I grew up in Washington state y’know,” Clarke leans back against the faux rocky outcrop set out near the signs for the toilets and playground. “We knew what cold was back home.”

“Really?” Lexa glances over at her from where she’s gently rocking the stroller back and forth. Tris is flat out inside, though she still has an iron grip on her teddy. “I grew up in California, but I went to school in Connecticut,” she laughs softly and Clarke tries not to notice that when she shakes her head at herself, strands of hair fall over her cheeks and in front of her eyes. “I wasn’t prepared for the weather.”

“Ah,” Clarke slouches back against the rock. “I went to college here, I fell in love with it.”

“The weather is beautiful here.” Lexa smiles, twisting to peer down at the sleeping baby and slowing her rocking until she can lean back against the rock with Clarke, who asks.

“Is that why you moved back? The weather?”

“No,” Lexa smiles, laughing softly and shaking her head. “I was offered a position with a law firm out here, after I finished law school. Plus I wanted to be near to Anya and the kids... I didn’t have the money to come home a lot while I was at Yale.”

“You went to Yale?” Clarke’s jaw drops, but they are interrupted by a kind, friendly voice.

“Oh, she’s so darling,” an old woman has stopped, a volunteer at the restaurant her badge tells them, her coat bundled over her uniform. She is crouching in front of Tris, who has stirred in time to be coo’ed over. “What a beautiful little baby, you’re so lucky.” She smiles at them.

“Thank you,” Lexa seems incapable of replying, torn with indecision so Clarke steps in, “she’s the best when she’s sleeping.”

The woman laughs, “oh they always are,” she steps back and admires them as a set, “you’re a very attractive little family.”

This time it’s Clarke turn to be frozen in indecision, mouth gaping and Lexa stutters over her words.

“Oh- we’re not-“

“Clarke!” Octavia waves from across the square and Miya trots up to them, taking Lexa’s hand and smiling up at her angelically.

“Hi Aunty Lexa,” Aden slopes up beside them, hands in his pockets but undeniably flushed with enjoyment.

“Hey,” she squeezes Miya’s hand, “have a good time?”

“Oh yeah, we loved it right?” Raven nudges Aden in the arm and the boy breaks out into a smile.

“Yeah, it was awesome,” he admits, “Octavia knows tons about animals.”

“Does she?” Clarke cuts a glance to the girl, who smiles conspiratorially and when she casts about for the volunteer, she is long gone.

“We saw the monkeys,” Miya tells Lexa very seriously and Lexa nods, “and Raven told me all about her job. Aunty Lexa?”

“Yes?” Tris begins to fuss and Clarke pushes herself from the plastic rock to edge around the stroller and squats down in front of her to sooth her.

“I’m going to be an astronaut when I grow up.”

Clarke’s head pops up, peering around the stroller to grin at where Lexa is trying not to smile. Miya looks stern and certain and Raven looks smug, sticking her tongue out at Octavia over Tris’s stroller.

“Really?” Miya nods firmly and Lexa adopts her best serious expression, “well I think that’s a very good aspiration, Miya. We need more ladies in space.”

“Yes, I’m going to ask Mrs Edwards if I can be an astronaut in the Thanksgiving play, instead of a pumpkin,” Miya tugs on Lexa’s hand, continuing before Lexa can correct her. “Can I have a toy, Aunty Lexa?”

“That’s not fair,” Aden pushes himself up from where he’s been leaning against the signpost, his rapidly growing body seeming almost too big for itself. “I should be allowed something too.”

“You want a teddy bear?” Lexa cocks her eyebrow at him and Aden is sufficiently cowed, leaning back against the signpost with a mutter. “You can both have ten dollars,” Lexa continues and Aden perks up as Miya beams excitedly, tugging Lexa away towards the gift shop.

Clarke rises to lean against the rock with Raven as the two children drag their aunt away and watches them go with a deep fondness. Octavia crouches in front of the stroller, and Tris, now thoroughly awake, garbles out half words and reaches to be picked up.

“How was it, really?” Clarke asks, tugging her jacket over her hands.

“Fine,” Raven shrugs, watching Octavia scoop Tris up and bounce her on her hip. “They were well behaved. I think Octavia is beginning to get broody.”

“I am not,” Octavia wrinkles her nose, but her expression softens when she looks back to Tris, “but look at how cute she is.”

Raven raises her eyebrows in Clarke’s direction and Clarke only laughs, “well you’re welcome to them, we always want babysitters. By the way, are either of you free in two weeks? I need someone to come with me to this work thing.”

“Like a date?” Octavia smirks at her over Tris’s soft, downy head of hair. “Getting desperate, Griffin?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, cringing though her friend has a point. “F… fudge off O, you know I’m having a bit of a dry spell relationship-wise.”

“I’ll say,” Raven leans back against the rock, “I’ve not seen you go this long without a relationship since freshman year of college.”

“Hey!” She feels a furl of irritation, “I’m just busy at the moment, okay?”

“Why don’t you ask Lexa to this work thing with you?” Octavia asks innocently, bouncing the baby gently in her arms.

“What?” Clarke hesitates, stumbling for a moment, “ask her as my date? You don’t think it would send the wrong impression?”

“The impression that you want to bang her? Yeah, but isn’t that what you want?”

“Raven!” Clarke’s eyes widen, her stomach dropping and when she looks at Octavia for support the girl just offers her a knowing look. “I don’t- that’s  _ not true _ ! And don’t say that in front of the baby!”

“She doesn’t understand me,” Raven rolls her eyes, “and it is true, subtlety was never your strong point Griffin.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“You probably want to  _ make love _ or something equally gay- ow!” Raven is cut off by Clarke’s sharp elbow ramming into her ribcage and Clarke casts a look at Octavia, who is hiding her grin behind Tris’s head.

“Please help me out here, O.”

“Come on Clarke, you can’t deny it. We’ve known you for years.” Octavia levels her with a dubious look and Clarke feel the flush betraying her, dusting against her cheeks like a neon sign.

“Nobody can blame you Clarke, Lexa’s hot,” Raven has moved safely from Clarke’s trajectory, “plus she has that working-mom thing going on, it’s enough to rival  _ your _ mom-”

“Oh my god,  _ stop _ .”

Octavia can’t control her laughter, spluttering out a snort and dissolving into giggles and Raven dodges away when Clarke stretches out to smack her.

“Admit you like her!”

“Fine! Okay?” Her shout is followed by a long, shuddering silence, as if the world has just twisted slightly on its axis and as the dust settles, Clarke finds that her fingers are clinging to the cheap, plastic rock below her, as if rooting herself to the ground. “I do like her,” she says again, quietly and even Raven’s teasing smile has fallen from her face, replaced with a confused, pitying expression. “I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“But Clarke-“ Octavia is frowning at her, mouth drawn with disapproval.

“It’s too good, okay?” She cuts her off, heaving in a shuddering breath. “I can’t ruin this. What we have, us and the kids… it’s too big a risk.”

“Sometimes a risk can be a good thing.” Octavia says at last, passing Tris over when Clarke reaches out her hands for her.

“These kids are tough Clarke, they’ve withstood this much. If you’re really worried about them, don’t do it, but don’t use them as an excuse.” Raven slips down into the spot next to her, running a hand over Tris’s head.

Clarke sighs softly, tucking the baby beneath her chin, where Tris grabs at her coat and cuddles happily into her, and watches Lexa and Miya through the wide window of the gift shop. They’re sat on the floor by the soft toys, surrounded by teddies, involved in a serious discussion and Clarke presses Tris more closely against her body, hoping to disguise the tangible longing of her heart.

\---

Lexa worries that she has become too used to Clarke’s little oddities. When the blonde returns home from a quick trip to the store with milk, cheese and 8 tins of paint, she barely bats an eyelid. Instead, she raises an eyebrow from her place by the washing machine, loading in piles of laundry and heaves herself up to help the kids get changed into their oldest, dirtiest clothes. When she returns to Clarke’s room, she finds a haphazard arrangement of dust sheets thrown over things, pieces of furniture moved to the middle of the room, clothes and knickknacks in a pile in the living room.

Clarke is stood in the middle of the room, dust sheets covering the floor, her hair bundled on top of her head, a pair of paint splattered dungarees on. Aden is already playing with the various brushes she has conjured up and Miya appears at Lexa’s side in the doorway, nudging her way through, her hair braided into pigtails.

“I called the landlord,” Clarke says by way of greeting, “He’s fine with us painting, so don’t worry. And Comet is in the garden, so no paint poisoning.”

“Good,” Lexa settles Tris down in her highchair, as far away from the paint as possible. “Do you think she’ll be okay? I read the other day that the fumes at parking lots are terrible for children under two, is it the same with paint fumes?”

“No,” Clarke tells her succinctly and then continues, smiling, “these are water based paints, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” she smiles when Clarke brushes a touch across her arm, but her eyes narrow when she sees Miya going for the paint tin. “Whoa,” Lexa catches her by the waist, pulling her back. “First rule, no painting without adult supervision.”

Miya pouts and Clarke rolls her eyes, squatting down next to the open pot of emulsion and beckoning the kids closer. “Get some brushes,” she tells them, “and paint  _ just  _ the wall, got it?” They both nod happily and she beams, “ready, set,  _ go _ .”

As the kids take off to paint the wall as quickly as possible, Clarke straightens up and steps back next to Lexa, crossing her arms and smiling smugly. “The endless energy of kids.”

“We should probably give them a hand,” Lexa smiles, softly and laughs when Clarke lets out a long suffering groan.

They spread white paint over the thick red walls and while Lexa covers the highest spots with steady lines of neatly rolled paint, Clarke works with the edges of the wall, where it needs a more delicate touch against the skirting board. The kids fill the gap in the middle, painting with gusto and when Miya calls to her, Lexa has to twist to look at her from the stepladder.

On the wall is a half-finished hangman game, four letters missing and a stick man dangerously close to mortal peril. The paint is dripping from Aden’s brush and Clarke lifts her head from where she’s bent over the corner between the wall and the door, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Miya, Aden, you shouldn’t do that,” Lexa scolds, descending a step down the ladder, but Clarke clambers to her feet to stand behind Miya.

“No wait, I can get this,” she stares at the word for a moment, before reaching out to fill in the missing letters. “Aha, skateboard!” She rounds on Aden triumphantly.

“Christmas isn’t until next month, no need to drop hints just yet,” Lexa comments wryly, joining them on the floor and Clarke rolls up her sleeves.

“My go!”

They fill the wall with games of hangman, noughts and crosses and silly smiley faces. Lexa kneels next to Miya to help her spell out first her name wonkily, then Clarke’s, Aden’s and Lexa’s. Above them, Clarke draws spiralling flowers with her smaller paintbrush, delicate and intricate- “Clarke please draw some on my wall!  _ Please _ !”- and Aden follows on behind them all with a roller, covering up all of their work with long, devastating strokes.

“Look,” Clarke nudges her and she sees her name written in spiralling cursive. She purses her lips and paints  _ Clarke _ beneath it, more shakily. She tries to not look too sad when Aden covers the names with his roller.

In front of a particularly difficult game of noughts and crosses, Clarke puts her fingers against her chin, humming in thought and when she draws them away, has a white smudge in their place. Miya giggles and Aden points and even Lexa can’t help but laugh at Clarke’s bewildered face, until she finally clicks and her eyes narrow. With a flick of her wrist, her paintbrush sends splatters flying across Lexa’s arm and cheek.

Lexa stares at her, aghast and shocked for a moment, as Clarke tries not to giggle. Miya is chuckling too and Clarke turns on her, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you laughing at, huh?” She darts forward and places a dot of paint on Miya’s nose and abruptly they have descended into a paint fight, stripes of white on Aden’s arms and ear, along Miya’s neck and fingers and covering Clarke’s cheeks.

They barely hear the doorbell above their shrieks and giggles and it’s only when the sound comes again, loud and impatient, that Lexa pauses, brows creasing uncertainly to look towards the door. She catches Miya before she can flick any more paint, pinching the brush from her fingers.

“Hold on a moment,” her eyes flicker to Clarke, “is that for you?”

“I’m not expecting anyone,” Clarke shrugs and Lexa sighs.

“Probably someone canvasing, I’ll be back in a minute.” She casts her eyes over the children, “maybe help them get cleaned up for lunch?”

Clarke smiles and herds the kids upstairs, as Lexa picks up an overexcited Tris. “I’m letting the dog in as well,” she tells her, darting back to the kitchen and Lexa hears the backdoor swing open and a few welcoming barks as she pauses to catch a drop of paint on Tris’s arm.

Clarke squeezes past, the puppy trotting up next to her to butt his head at Lexa’s leg, and the doorbell goes again, startling the baby into a wavering, half wail and the dog into loud barks. They both frown and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Pushy,” she mutters, heading up the stairs and Lexa tries to simultaneously hush Tris and keep Comet from charging out of the door when she opens it, pushing the dog back with her leg.

“Alexandria.” The voice sends ice running through her veins and she looks up to find Titus stood in the doorway, in what he deigns casual: a shirt and pressed dress pants.

She’s so shocked that she lets her leg fall and Comet rushes out to bark at him, jumping up.

“Titus-  _ Comet _ !” The puppy is well trained enough that he recognises Lexa’s voice and drops back to his feet, still barking. “Comet, come!  _ Come _ !” He returns to her reluctantly, growling at Titus. “Sorry, he’s still a puppy, we’ve only had him a few months.”

“It’s fine.” At the sound of his voice, Comet begins a whole new round of barking and Lexa can feel Tris burying her face in the crook of her neck, a few tears leaking from her eyes as she begins to whimper. She tries desperately to bounce the baby in one arm, urging the puppy away with the other, and is failing at both when Clarke appears like an angel on the stairs.

“Everything okay- oh. Hello, Titus.”

“Clarke, is it?” He nods at her, mouth thin, expression impassive and Clarke’s eyes tighten, though she descends the last few steps.

“That’s right. Let me take Comet, Lex.” She tugs the puppy’s collar, urging him into the living room and promptly shutting the door.

“Sorry,” Lexa apologises again, “what are you doing here, Titus?” She can sense Clarke behind her, hovering in the hallway to watch them.

“Well, you made such a song and dance about me not seeing the children, I thought I would call in.” Titus shifts from foot to foot on the doorway.

“You didn’t call…” She trails off when he frowns.

“It was a sudden decision. I see I may have interrupted something.” He gestures awkwardly to her face and Lexa realises, with a flush of humiliated heat, that she is still covered with white paint, though Clarke is blessedly clean. “Should I come back another time?” Though the offer is kind and considerate, he sounds uncomfortable and almost disgusted with the idea and Lexa steps back before she can help herself to welcome him in.

“No, we were just painting a room, we were about to take a break anyway. You can join us for lunch, right Clarke?”

“Right.” Is all Clarke says, though she offers Titus a tight, stilted smile and shows him through to the kitchen.

“I’m just going to fetch the kids,” Lexa’s eyes dart uncertainly between where Titus is sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, looking as out of place as a storm cloud in a blue sky, and the stairs where she can hear the children beginning to argue in the bathroom and Clarke gives her a small smile, saying in reply.

“Can I get you coffee, Titus?”

\---

The children and Lexa manage to appear downstairs clean and washed and on their best behaviour before Titus has finished his first cup of coffee. Lexa is buzzing with nervous energy, her chest tight with anxiety and she can’t stop her fingers from fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Miya hesitates in the doorway and it is only her brother’s hand on her shoulder that urges her inside to perch on her normal chair, folding her hands primly in the lap of her blue and white dress. Aden sinks into the chair next to his sister, awkward and uncomfortable in his polo shirt and much detested slacks. Lexa knows they look as if they’re dressed up for church- even the baby has a bow in her hair- and Clarke is the only normal one in her paint stained dungarees and messy bun.

There is a thick silence between Clarke and Titus when the little family enters the kitchen and Clarke pushes herself away from the counter where she’s been leaning and meets Lexa in the doorway, saying quietly.

“I’ve bookmarked some pages in the cookbook that are quick and look good, you’ve still got a little-” She reaches up and wipes away a smudge of paint on Lexa’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“It’s okay,” She hesitates, her fingers still brushing Lexa’s cheek, “maybe I should… take Comet for a walk? This seems like family business.”

“No,” Lexa takes her hand before she knows what she’s doing and even Clarke’s startled gaze isn’t enough to frighten her away. “Please stay.”

Clarke hesitates for a moment, torn with indecision, but eventually nods, slipping back into the kitchen and putting on another pot of coffee. “Sit,” she urges Lexa, and fetches two glasses of juice for the children as Lexa settles Tris into her high chair.

“So, Titus, you remember Aden? You met when he was still young.” Aden doesn’t even smile at the old man, grunting, his eyes fixed to his glass of juice and Lexa rushes quickly on. “This is Miya, she’ll be six in January,” the little girl is watching Titus with a tentative curiosity, torn with shyness, “and Tris is 15 months,” The baby is sucking on her fist, oblivious to them all.

Titus hums, but says nothing else and Lexa casts a despairing glance at Clarke, floundering on.

“Kids, this is Titus, my foster father.”

Aden looks up at him, stony faced and offers no kind of greeting, but Miya says, uncertainly.

“Are you our grandpa?”

Lexa feels her heart tighten, though the stricken expression on Titus’s usually stoic demeanour is enough to make her want to laugh. Clarke is glancing anxiously back and forth between them, still glued to her station at the coffee pot and Lexa finally says.

“Not exactly, Miya.”

“But you said he was your father,” Miya frowns at her, perplexed, “and you’re momma’s sister, which means he must be her father too. So he’s our grandpa.” She gives them all a proud smile, “we’ve been doing families in school.”

“I see,” Lexa gives her a patient smile and glances at Titus, “the thing is some families are more complicated than that Miya. Me and your mommy didn’t have any parents, so Titus adopted us and looked after us.”

“Like you’re looking after us now?” Miya’s small fingers are wrapped around her glass and she is becoming less and less confident as the air in the room becomes thicker and more uncomfortable.

“Sort of,” Lexa struggles for a moment, “but me and your mommy didn’t have anyone coming back for us, so Titus looked after us until we grew up. Your mommy is coming back for you, I’m just looking after you until then. People get adopted when their parents won’t be able to look after them again.”

“Where is the father?” Titus puts in, abruptly and Lexa hears Clarke’s sharp intake of breath, her own features tightening into a frown.

“Daddy used to come and visit us,” Miya tells him, her face falling, “but he wasn’t very nice, especially to mommy.”

“Really?” Titus’s expression creases with curiosity. “What was his name?”

“Daddy,” Miya says, as if it were obvious, “but mommy used to call him other names like-”

“Miya’s going to be in a play!” Clarke cuts in and Miya’s face lights up. “Why don’t you tell Titus about that, darling?”

“Yes! I’m going to be a pumpkin!” Miya beams proudly, “because Aunty Lexa says there weren’t astronauts when they first had Thanksgiving.”

“Is that so?” Titus smiles thinly at her.

“You could come if you wanted?” Lexa offers, hopefully, “it’s the Monday after next.”

Titus’s nose wrinkles and she knows before he even opens his mouth that he will refuse, but Aden.’s loud scoff cuts through him. He’s been silent up until now, but Lexa could feel his anger building, banking up like a fire smouldering in a grate. Their heads turn to him and he curls his lip, looking suddenly older than his ten years.

“Don’t bother, Aunt Lexa, it’s not like he’s going to come.”

“Aden!” Lexa scolds him, frowning. “Don’t be rude!”

“Why not?” Aden scowls at Titus, “he’s never been interested in us before, he basically ditched mom because she had me- I  _ know, _ she told me!”

“It was a difficult time,” Titus begins, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Your mother and I had a strained relationship.”

“Only because you  _ made it _ that way!” Aden stands abruptly, his chair scraping noisily against the tiles. “I’m going to play with Comet.” He mutters and turns on his heel to disappear into the living room.

Lexa half stands, gazing after him in dismay and Clarke steps in, filling the uncomfortable silence. “Miya, why don’t you go check on your brother? Be nice to him, okay?”

Miya nods mutely, eyes wide as saucers at her brother’s display, and slips from her seat to join him. Carefully, Clarke draws Tris up into her arms as Lexa sinks back to sit down again.

“I’m going to put Tris down for her nap,” she tells them quietly and then she is gone, leaving them alone together in the kitchen, Lexa staring dejectedly down at her hands.

“I didn’t mean to cause disruption,” Titus says at last, his voice stiff and disapproving and Lexa sighs.

“Can you blame him?” She asks at last, voice weak, “or Anya?”

“No,” He doesn’t sounds apologetic, but there is no note of malice in his voice either. “I’m not here to build a relationship with these children, Lexa, I know that time has long passed. But I can be there for them in other ways. Do you have their legal documents? Medical insurance, birth certificates, fostering contracts? I’d like to look at them while I’m here, if you don’t mind.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah I have them,” she pushes herself slowly from her seat, leading him back into the dining room and pulling open the locked door of a filing cabinet. “Here,” she hands him three carefully coded files and he spreads them across the dining room table to look at.

Clarke appears again in the doorway and Lexa excuses herself for a moment to step outside.

“Everything okay?” Clarke glances uncertainly in at Titus, “what were those questions about?”

“I don’t know,” she runs a hand through her hair, “but he’s looking over the kid’s contracts and things now, checking them. I think he’s trying to help.”

“What’s the point, you’re a lawyer, surely you’d have picked up anything wrong?”

“He’s been practicing for thirty years, Clarke, he’s far more experienced.” Her eyes flicker to the living room door and Clarke catches her anxious look.

“I’ll check on Aden,” she offers and Lexa gives her a soft, grateful smile.

In the dining room, Titus looks up when she steps inside. “I won’t stay for lunch,” he says, closing the files and Lexa feels a tightness in her chest, a stab of longing.

“Come to Thanksgiving dinner,” the words escape her in a rush and Titus blinks at her in surprise. “It’s a time to be with your family and…. You’re family so… please come.” She finishes lamely and he presses his lips together, nodding at last.

“I will, thank you.” His gaze falls back to the files and he looks up at her, a half smile on his face “You always were very well organised, an excellent student.” She offers him a small smile in return and he continues, “I’m sure you’re an excellent lawyer. You know my firm’s offer always stands.”

“Thank you, but no.” She gives him a strained smile, “but we’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”

\----

“Clarke, you look so  _ pretty _ .” Miya is lingering in her bedroom as she applies a final layer of dark lipstick and she smiles at the little girl in the mirror. Miya sits at the end of her bed, kicking her feet and watching her fluff her hair; she already has a bow in her hair and has trailed around the room in a pair of Clarke’s heels, giggling and admiring herself in the full length mirror behind the door.

“I wish I could go to a party,” she sighs longingly, bracketing her chin between her hands and Clarke laughs softly, collecting her clutch from the dresser.

“I promise you’ll go to plenty of parties as you grow older,” she casts about for her phone, finding it lodged below a pile of torn and laddered stockings on the bed.

“Why is Aunty Lexa going with you?” Miya swings her feet and reaches back for one of Clarke’s stockings, pulling it into her lap to play with.

“Because-” she has to reach under the bed to find her wallet, extracting a few cards from it to tuck into the pocket of her clutch. “They normally give you two tickets to these things, so I gave mine to Lexa.”

“Like your date?” The little girl smiles innocently and Clarke spins around, mouth dropping open.

“Where did you hear  _ that _ from?”

“Octavia told Raven that Lexa would be your date,” Miya smiles innocently, completely unaware of her horror.

“Well… yes I suppose that’s true but- like a friend.” The doorbell rings and she is blessedly saved from any further questioning. “That’s probably Octavia now, why don’t you go and let her in?”

Miya nods enthusiastically and bounces her way out of the room and down the hallway. Clarke takes a moment to heave in a shuddering breath at her most recent near miss and turns to the mirror, smoothing down the skirt of her red dress and slipping her feet into comfortable flats for driving, her fingers hooking a pair of heels as she steps from the room.

“Clarke!” Octavia beams at her from where she’s tickling Miya beneath her arms. “You look hot!”

“Thanks O,” she rolls her eyes, peering in the living room at where Aden is enthralled with his video game. “Aden, Octavia is here.”

“Coming,” he calls back without lifting his eyes from his game.

“Sorry,” Clarke smiles apologetically at Octavia, “don’t let him play at least two hours before bed.”

“Lexa’s rule?” Octavia quirks an eyebrow.

“Mine, actually.”

“Aunty Lexa!”

Miya’s cry turns their attention to the woman walking down the stairs and Clarke’s eyes widen at the sight of her, long hair curling over one shoulder, dark dress almost painted to her body and revealing her long neck and slender shoulders.

“Clarke, you look so beautiful.”

“ _ Wow _ , Lex, you’re stunning.”

They talk over one another, their voices joining in a cacophony of admiration and both cut themselves off, flushing and exchanging shy glances as Octavia smiles at them knowingly.

“You both look great.” She comments at last, a huge, smug smile still plastered on her face and Clarke considers kicking her in the shin.

“Are you ready?” Lexa asks, anxiously, “we should really be going, I’m sorry it took me a while to-”

“Lex, relax,” Clarke watches her descend the last few steps and drape a cream pashmina elegantly over her shoulders. “We’re working right to schedule.”

“And are you sure you want to drive?” Lexa hooks the strap of her bag over her shoulder, “you won’t even be able to drink at your own awards evening!”

“Trust me, around these people it’s better that I not drink.” Clarke purses her lip and Octavia nods knowingly.

“Plus you can always leave your car with the valet and get a cab home, if you want to drink- now!” She steps back, ushering Miya behind her and then nudging Lexa a step closer to Clarke. She digs in her pocket for her phone and holds it up. “Let me take a picture!”

“ _ Really  _ Octavia?” Clarke sighs heavily, glancing awkwardly at Lexa, who only gives her a calm smile. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“What! You look cute and Raven made me promise.”

“You do look lovely Clarke,” Lexa adds softly from beside her and Clarke feels herself turn as red as her dress.

“Yeah but  _ you _ -“

“Yes, yes, you both look lovely,” Octavia waves her hand despairingly, “Come on, you have to get going.”

She takes a picture and a rush of pleasure runs through Clarke when Lexa places a hand on her waist to keep them close together. Octavia grabs one more shot for snapchat and then they are able to escape from the house.

\---

Clarke has been to a few of these sorts of functions before, though never alone. Her mother, a well known surgeon in their district, was often attending events and after her father had once spilled wine all over the director of the board, Abby had taken to bringing Clarke to these events in his stead. Clarke considers her mother a kind and good woman, but these events were boring beyond measure to a ten year old forced into her nicest dress and given the strictest instructions not to go anywhere near any liquid other than water. She had trailed at her mother’s heels, watching her exchange polite chit chat with donors and trustees and as a reward Abby would take her for ice cream at the 24 hour McDonald’s down the street when they were done.

Now, however, she thinks she won’t be able to escape at 9:30 for desert. The foyer of the building rented for the event is carpeted in a duck egg blue and covered wall to wall with mirrors, overlaid with gold frames and modern art. Lilies and blue roses spill from gilded vases and Clarke pauses in front of a strange sculpture that looks like a woman giving birth to wait as Lexa stares up at the vaulted ceilings.

“This place is incredible,” she breathes when she catches up and Clarke hums softly, urging her past one of the many long corridors streaming away from the foyer, hidden behind towering art deco columns.

“The hospital board has a lot of money to spend on fancy galas, but not enough to hire the extra nurses we need in the children’s SCU.” She casts an irritated glance at the man who offers them free champagne as they step through a set of wide double doors, though Lexa takes a glass with a soft word of thanks.

“Do you go to a lot of these?” Lexa hesitates at the top of the few stairs leading down into a grand hall. It too is filled with marble and gold, mirrors against the walls and tables huddle around the dance floor like a flock of white feathered birds around a watering hole.

“No, I’m surprised they’ve even included me, I’m barely more than an intern.” She touches at the banister of the stairs, feeling the polished mahogany run smoothly across her fingers. “I used to go with my mom when I was little though.”

“Your mom is a doctor?” Lexa joins her and they descend the stairs together, noticed by no one.

Though sober, Clarke makes a beeline to the bar. “Yeah,” she settles against the marble panelled worktop with a sigh of relief, anchoring herself to watch people stream past, making polite conversation. “A surgeon, she’s what made me want to get into medicine. Even though I saw the shit hours, sometimes she would come home and say ‘hey, guess what I did today? I saved someone’s life.’ She was like superwoman.”

“Clarke,” Lexa is smiling softly, “that’s so lovely.”

The bar maid appears before Clarke can smile too goofily in return and as they order their drinks, she hears someone call her name and her stomach sinks.

“Ah, Clarke!”

“Mr Wissener,” The chief of medicine is smiling and already halfway towards being drunk, accompanied by three other equally old, drunken men in heavy, dark suits. Clarke casts Lexa an apologetic glance and steps away to greet them. “How are you, sir?” She shakes the hand he holds out and he beams at her, red cheeked from drink and the heat of the room.

“Just fine, Clarke. Let me introduce you to a few people.” He gestures to his two older colleagues, “this is Mr Jacobs and Mr Reskov of the California Institute for Medical Research.”

She reaches out and shakes their hands, “Clarke Griffin, wonderful to meet you.”

“You too, Miss Griffin,” Reskov smiles at her from beneath owlish glasses. He is so pale that Clarke wonders if he ever sees the sun. “We read one of your papers, on the risks of bronchoscopies on children under 18 months, it was enlightening.”

“Oh,” she feels herself colour, delighted with his praise, “thank you so much, sir.”

“And this is Mr Edwards. His mother is a principle donor to the hospital.” Mr Wissener nods, satisfied and turns her to the tall man at her side, light hair and startlingly blue eyes.

“Miss Griffin, it’s a pleasure,” he takes her outstretched hand and places a kiss to it and she feels herself colour again, though this time anxiety curdles her stomach.

“Oh, look there’s Jenny Alcroft! I’ll have to steal the Institute men away for a moment, Clarke, I’m afraid, but do get to know Mr Edwards.” Wissener ushers the two other men away and Clarke watches him go with an air of despair.

“So you’re an intern, is that right? You must be doing the right things to end up here, with all the big people.” Edwards cocks an eyebrow and she swallows.

“Clearly I’m doing something right,” she shrugs, giving him a half hearted smile and shivers when she feels his eyes dart down to take her in.

“I think so, I’m in business and I tend to get a sense for these things.”

“These things?” She casts about for Lexa, but the girl is lost in the throngs of people lingering around the bar waiting to be served. “What things?”

“The successful people, the people who are going to rise to the top.” Edwards side steps to avoid some of the traffic and edges closer to her, “you definitely have the looks of someone who’s going to get somewhere quickly.” For a horrible moment she thinks she can feel his hand drifting up her thigh and there is a second of blinding panic in which she wonders if she is really about to be felt up at a work event, when another, far more welcome voice appears suddenly at her side.

“Sorry that took so long,” Lexa presses a drink into her hands and then suddenly her arm is wrapping securely around Clarke’s waist, fingers splaying to press possessively against her hip. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting, darling.” she leans in and presses a kiss to Clarke’s cheek, and Clarke almost drops the glass in her hand.

“It- it’s okay,” she struggles to find her voice, every nerve in her body is centred on the feeling of Lexa’s hand against her waist. “Thank you.”

“Lexa Woods,” Lexa holds out a hand to Edwards, who is almost as slack jawed as Clarke, and gives him a friendly, naïve smile. “Good to meet you.”

“Jonah Edwards,” His voice is shaking just a little and he shakes her hand for the briefest of moments, casting about. “Oh!” He sounds painfully false, “I think someone just called my name, I’ll have to catch back up with the two of you later.”

The moment he is out of sight, Clarke’s whole body loosens, a relieved breath escaping her. “Thank you  _ so much.”  _ She says emphatically, turning to look at Lexa.

“We used to go to law faculty dinner parties for the free wine when I was in school,” Lexa smiles guiltily, her cheeks colouring with a lovely flush. “Those kinds of jerks are always at things like this; he probably won’t be the last of the night.” Her hand slides away from Clarke’s waist, falling back to her side and Clarke steals her martini from her hand to hide her disappointment, draining it.

Lexa blinks at her, lips parting is amused shock and Clarke gives her an impish smile. “I’m not spending all night with guys like that sober.”

\---

They give her the Rose Tyron award for excellence and Clarke manages not to cry until she is stepping from the stage. She is already 2/3 of the way through a bottle of wine and the room spins when she slips through the tables to fall into her seat beside Lexa, who curls an arm around her shoulder and produces a tissue from her clutch. She takes the opportunity to lean into Lexa’s shoulder, resting her cheek on her bare skin and sniffling pathetically as Lexa runs a soothing hand up and down her back.

They are both fairly drunk by the end of their meal, poking their way through each flamboyant course with a wrinkled nose and heavy gulps of wine to wash it down. The rest of their table are a dry lot, mostly from the hospital’s accounting team and Clarke taps out after two minutes of conversation with her neighbour, watching in awe as Lexa manages half an hour about fixed rate interest and bonds before she gives Clarke a meaningful glance and excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

Clarke follows after a few moments and finds Lexa leaning against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom, her head tipped back. Wordlessly, she moves to join her and Lexa speaks without opening her eyes.

“That man was incredibly boring, Clarke.”

She presses her lips together in an attempt not to laugh, “yes, I know.”

“And I talked to him for  _ three courses _ .” Clarke peeks open an eye to see that Lexa’s expression is crumpled into one of petulant annoyance. She watches the bob of Lexa’s throat as she swallows, bleary eyes following the curl of ringlets against her shoulders. “Can I tell you a secret?” She doesn’t wait for Clarke to reply, “I don’t even know what a derivative  _ is _ .”

Clarke dissolves into giggles and Lexa cracks a smile, shaking her head and heaving herself away from the wall to look at Clarke with pursed lips.

“I may be a little drunk,” she admits, after a beat and Clarke tries to control her laughter.

“Me too.”

“I haven’t been drunk since… well since I got the kids.” Lexa’s brows furrow and she digs in her bag. “I should call, check in,”

“Whoa,” Clarke snatches the phone from her fingers, stumbling away to hold it out of her reach. “No, no worrying tonight.”

“I can’t help  _ worrying _ Clarke,” Lexa rolls her eyes, reaching out to try to grab it back. “It’s an emotion.”

“I know that, I’m a doctor,” Clarke pokes her tongue out, sliding Lexa’s phone into her clutch. “But you’re not acting on it tonight. The kids will be fine, O will look after them.”

Lexa considers her for a moment, looking at her thoughtfully, “Promise?” She asks at last.

“Promise.”

\---

After coffee they are obliged to stay for further chit chat and mingling and Lexa offers to collect them another round of drinks while Clarke is talking to a nurse she knows from the ICU. Anna is wonderfully down to earth after the hubbub of talking heads she has been facing all night and when Lexa returns to press a glass of champagne into Clarke’s hands she strikes up an interesting conversation with Anna about family law as Clarke cradles her drink and leans against her to stay upright.

“Oh God,” Anna’s voice startles her from the half dream like drunken state she has entered and she turns to see Anna backing a step away. “Mr Carson.”

“What? Where?” Clarke spins to follow her gaze and balks at the sight of the old man making his way towards them. When she looks back, Anna has melted away into the crowds, but Carson has already spotted her and she is trapped in the crowds of people, their table preventing a speedy exit. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” Lexa’s brows furrow, “who’s Mr Carson?”

“The head of surgery at the hospital, huge Republican, he’s been part of anti abortion groups outside the district’s clinic before-  _ fuck _ , I’m too drunk, I can’t talk to him.” She burrows behind Lexa, taking a hearty gulp of her champagne as Carson smiles at them.

“Clarke, congratulations. Your mother will be proud.”

“Mm,” she hums and takes another mouthful of her drink.

“Francis Carson,” he holds his hand out to Lexa, “do you work at the hospital?”

“No,” Lexa is all calm and amicable smiles, “I’m a lawyer, actually. Lexa Woods.”

“Ah, a lawyer,” he grins gruffly, giving her hand a rigorous shake and Clarke almost wants to hide her face in Lexa’s shoulder when he says, conspiratorially, “I expect we have you to thank for getting us out of a lot of tight spots then?”

Lexa laughs, a soft, professional chuckle as deep and rough as velvet and Clarke feels as if she could wrap herself up in it. “Not exactly; I don’t work for the hospital. I’m here as Clarke’s girlfriend.”

“Oh-“ Carson’s smile immediately drops, his eyes darting from Lexa to Clarke in astonishment and Clarke can only offer him a wide, innocent smile. “I didn’t know-“

“You might have seen Clarke around with Raven, our other girlfriend? We live a very free life style,” Lexa shrugs casually, winding an arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “But she’s away at a nudist weekend, she wishes she could be here.”

“A…?” Carson trails off, too appalled to speak and  Lexa glances down at her wrist, which is distinctly absent of a watch, and says.

“Oh, babe we should be going. We have to meditate before we go to bed.” She gives Mr Carson a polite smile, but doesn’t offer her hand to shake again. “Sorry to leave so quickly but we can’t control the spirits.”

“Goodbye Mr Carson,” is all Clarke can manage from between lips clamped tightly over her laughter and allows Lexa to steer her back through the crowds and out into the quiet foyer, her arm still wrapped around Clarke’s shoulders.

The second the door to the function hall closes behind them Clarke collapses into laughter. She staggers away from Lexa, barely able to keep herself upright and leans heavily against a wall set back, in the shadows of an artsy column. Tears blot her eyes and her fingers are shaking with the force of her mirth, which escapes her in tiny, half wheezed gasps. She folds, her body crumpling beneath her and eases down to the floor, bent double with laughter. Lexa is giggling as well and Clarke feels the warmth of her body when Lexa sinks down next to her, her shoulder pressing against Clarke’s, knees brushing.

“A  _ nudist weekend _ ,” Clarke splutters out, crumpling into laughter again and it takes her a few minutes to gather herself enough to look at Lexa through teary eyes. “Where did that come from?”

“Spontaneous inspiration?” Lexa offers weakly, her words slurring slightly.

“You are  _ bad, _ Lexa Woods! Who knew?” Clarke nudges her in her ribs slightly, smirking and Lexa flushes prettily, rolling her eyes.

“I am  _ not _ . I just put somebody in his place who deserved it.” Her eyes tighten and she frowns anxiously, “He’s not your superior is he? I mean, he can’t fire you?”

“Like anyone else is going to believe I have two girlfriends, one of whom is a nudist.” Clarke scoffs and her head lolls back against the walls, suddenly an unbearable weight on her shoulder. “They all think I’m straight as an arrow.”

“Really?” Lexa’s brows shoot up curiously and Clarke is sure that it is only the alcohol in her system that makes her daring enough to say, “well, you are very straight passing Clarke.”

She makes an offended noise in the back of her throat, though her head rolls closer to Lexa on the wall when she turns to look at her. “I’m offended by that. Just because I’m not butch doesn’t mean I’m straight!”

“How long have you known you were bi?” Lexa asks, quietly and Clarke softens at the sight of her tentative curiosity.

“Since I was about fourteen I expect,” She shrugs, “ever since I knew what it was. I’ve always liked guys and girls.” She watches as Lexa hums her understanding, follows the smooth line of her nose and full lips. “What about you?”

“I’m not bi,” Lexa points out, after a moment’s pause and Clarke’s eyes crease.

“You know what I mean Lex.”

Lexa shifts uncomfortably next to her and a silence stretches out so far between them that Clarke almost breaks in, almost stands and moves away, until Lexa says, abruptly. “I wasn’t out. Not until law school.” She heaves in a shuddering breath, as if unable to believe she’s saying these words aloud and Clarke feels as if she is frightened to breathe and scare her away. “I didn’t want to… be anything but normal,” she lifts a shoulder in half a shrug and smiles, embarrassed. “Classic foster system kid. My sister rebelled, I just wanted to seem as normal as possible and to me normal was… straight.”

“What changed?” Clarke shifts closer, so their bodies are pressed against each other and reaches out to take Lexa’s hand.

“I don’t know,” Lexa’s hand is slack in hers for a moment, before curling around it. “I guess I just realised that I was hiding and…” her gaze shifts over Clarke’s face, sliding from her eyes to her lips and then guiltily back again. Clarke can smell her perfume, sweet and soft and subtle, and count the few freckles across her nose, map their constellations. “I just realised how very, very beautiful girls are.”

Clarke surges forwards without really thinking about it. She crosses the distance between them so rapidly that their noses knock together and their lips meet clumsily, half missing each other. She shifts, her fingers tightening around Lexa’s hand as if to keep her close and tilts her head, brushing their noses more gently against each other and this time their lips slot perfectly, half open as if they are both startled at this turn in events. Lexa tastes of wine and the chocolate dessert they had eaten last thing and Clarke breathes her in like a drowned man surfacing. Her hair tickles against Clarke’s cheek and Clarke’s fingers tighten, drawing her even closer until suddenly Lexa pulls away.

Clarke is so surprised that she almost topples into her, barely catching herself in time. They stare at each other through the darkness, both wide eyed, both trying to discern how their world has suddenly changed around them and Clarke feels as if she has missed a step, her stomach swooping horribly. This is nothing compared to the fear and horror and spark of hope in Lexa’s eyes however, almost overpowered by total shock and Clarke instinctively goes to assist her.

“Too much champagne, huh?” The joke is stilted and falls utterly false between them, but Lexa grasps it with both hands.

“Yes,” She presses a hand to her head, letting out one uncomfortable bite of laughter, “that and coming out stories… we’re stereotypes.”

“There are worse things to be,” Clarke feels suddenly and abruptly sober, as if she has been dipped into a cold bath and levers herself up from the floor, holding out a hand to help Lexa. “We should order a cab.”

Lexa hums in agreement and they troop out into the cold to wait as Clarke fumbles with her phone to book an Uber, fingers shivering with the cold. The pashmina drops around her shoulders and she feels her heart clench, glancing at Lexa with a small smile of thanks.

“It’ll only be a few minutes.”

Lexa nods mutely and for a minute they stand quietly beside each other, all of the joviality of the night left in that small, dark corner beside the wall. Clarke wraps the pashmina further around her shoulders and tries to ignore that it smells just like Lexa.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” Lexa says, at last, and Clarke’s eyes dart up in alarm to look at the woman next to her, who is almost hunched over.

“What? Lexa no! Lexa!” Her companion finally raises her eyes to meet her gaze and she looks guilt stricken. Clarke rushes to correct her, “it was me who pushed it, me who kissed  _ you _ . If anything, I should be the one apologising.”

“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, Clarke,” Lexa is achingly sincere and Clarke forces her grimace into a smile.

“Well then, no problem. Just chalk it up to alcohol and too much fake dating all night. Okay?”

Lexa is quiet, so quiet that Clarke feels it around her shoulders as if the pashmina has suddenly gained ten pounds. “Okay.” She says at last and Clarke is infinitely grateful for the Uber pulling up in front of the building.

\---

In the darkness of the car, Clarke gropes for anything to say.

“Hey, can I ask you something sort of stupid?”

“Of course,” she can see the whites of Lexa’s eyes in the flash of streetlights above them as they drive and surges desperately on.

“What actually happened to the kid’s mom?” There is a long, pregnant silence between them and Clarke feels her stomach sink. “I just- I never asked because I wasn’t sure if I should, it felt too late to ask you and-”

“She’s not dead,” Lexa cuts through her before Clarke can say any more and there’s a strange, unnaturally even pitch to her voice.

“Oh,” Clarke deflates a little, relieved though she isn’t really sure why.

“She’s in prison,” Lexa says, quietly and Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise. “Nine years, at least.” Lexa turns to look out of the window and when they lapse into silence again Clarke isn’t desperate to break it.

\---

Later that night she lies in her own, cold bed and sees that Octavia has uploaded the photo of them onto her snapchat story, with the emoji of two girls kissing.

\---

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo, getting somewhere! Let me know how you're finding it below or over on tumblr! I've told some of you this already, but I'm considering writing some drabbles and one shots over the Christmas break, so let me know on tumblr what kind of stuff you would like to see.


	7. November II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: brief, non-graphic and non-depicted discussion of domestic violence and child abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update guys! I'm totally buried in work, I'm currently writing my dissertation/thesis so it's heavy. Thank you so much for your patience and sorry I haven't gotten around to answering all of your wonderful comments yet, I will do I promise!  
> \--  
> please take note of the tw above, if you would like to skip the section it begins after 'Slowly, Clarke lowers herself into the kitchen chair beside Lexa’s and speaks as softly as she can. “ I have time.”' and ends by '“And the thing you’re doing… is to do with this?” Clarke ventures cautiously.'

The next afternoon finds Clarke at a slightly less upmarket event. The classroom smells of industrial cleaner and sticky fingers and the kindergarten chairs are so tiny that she is distinctly worried she may not be able to get out of hers, but she still has her phone clutched tightly in her hands ready to take as many pictures as possible. Octavia sits next to her, eager to see the result of their hard work on Miya’s costume, and holding her own phone ready to take photographs. Clarke still feels tender from the night before and is infinitely grateful that she doesn’t have to go to work until tomorrow night.

“Okay, but what kind of kiss was it?” Octavia asks, in a hushed voice, as other parents stream in behind them.

Clarke glances up and politely shakes her head at the father eyeing up the seat beside her, on which her bag and coat are thrown. “It was messy. And drunk. And also really great.”

“Really great?” Octavia frowns at her, “like a Clarke Griffin certified kiss?”

“It was definitely one of my better stupid decisions,” she peers over her shoulder, eyes searching for a familiar face, “or at least it was until about twenty seconds later.”

“And she didn’t say  _ anything  _ good?” Octavia is shaking her head, bemused.

“I told you!” Clarke tosses her arms up, mystified, “she just apologised and looked  _ horrified _ .”

“Horrified?” Octavia echoes, appalled, “you definitely aren’t a bad kisser, even when smashed, so it can’t have been about quality.”

“It must have just been me,” Clarke twists again, frowning as the swell of parents coming from the door dies down to a trickle. “Where  _ is she _ ?”

“She’ll be here,” Octavia pats her leg comfortingly, “listen Clarke, trust me when I say that Lexa is not horrified by you.”

“She must be!”

“She’s  _ not! _ You can’t see the way she looks at you, okay? It’s like a puppy, frankly you’re both disgusting.”

The teacher comes out, readying to speak to them ad Clarke checks her phone anxiously, looking desperately to the door. “Where the hell is she?”

Octavia frowns, shrugging and Miya’s teacher steps out onto their make shift stage, smiling widely at them. Clarke can hear the children rustling behind the curtains strung up in front of the reading area and the occasional hushed whispering and feels a jolt of dread at the empty seat next to her.

“Where can she be?” She leans over to whisper to Octavia as the teacher speaks and Octavia looks anxiously at the door. Clarke feels a swell of fear in her chest, “you don’t think… she’s avoiding me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Clarke-” Octavia’s rebuttal is cut off by the parent in front of them turning to glare nastily and Clarke shrinks into her seat, falling into gloom as she does so.

\---

Lexa pulls into the driveway at four thirty and Clarke’s blood is still boiling. She’s left two voicemails on Clarke’s answering machine, one on the house phone, and sent Clarke three unopened  texts . Clarke had passed angry and moved into furious the moment she had had to tell an exhilarated five year old in a pumpkin costume that her aunt had not appeared to see her show, and watched her face fall. Miya had perked up again, under the lavish praise piled onto her by both Clarke and Octavia. She had given Aden and Tris a repeat performance the moment she got home, still in her costume, although this rendition had included a monologue and an interpretive dance, to rave reviews even from her older brother.

Now Octavia is gone, the pacifying force in the house, and it is only for Miya’s sake that Clarke keeps from glowering at the woman as she walks in.

“Aunty Lexa!” Miya is sat in the living room with Clarke, watching a cartoon, her brother is upstairs working on some project, and the little girl perks up when Lexa steps inside.

“Hi poppet,” Lexa looks weary, the weight of the world sitting on her shoulders, but she gives Miya a smile and drops her briefcase, opening her arms for Miya to barrel into her legs. “I’m so sorry I missed your show.”

“Where were you?” Miya steps back and fixes Lexa with big, brown eyes and Lexa sighs, crouching down to her level.

“I got caught up with something very important at work. That isn’t an excuse, but I’m hoping you’ll be a big girl and understand that I wouldn’t have missed your show if it wasn’t something very, very important.”

Miya looks at her for a moment, considering her offer before finally nodding and beaming when Lexa smiles in response. “It’s okay,” she decides, “I’m still in my costume and I can do another show for you. Clarke and Octavia were there too.”

Lexa glances over at Clarke and gives her a grateful smile, but Clarke stares back at her, impassively, and watches Lexa’s smile falter uncertainly. Turning back to her niece, she holds out a hand to admire her costume.

“You’re a beautiful pumpkin, Miya. Did you say thank you to Clarke and Octavia for making you such a beautiful costume?”

Miya looks momentarily guilt-stricken and spins to say, as sweetly as possible, “thank you, Clarke.”

“That’s okay, darling,” she stands and edges past them in the doorway, ruffling Miya’s hair. She slides from the room and into the kitchen to begin making a cup of coffee, slamming her way through the cupboards. Her irritation feels like a live wire beneath her skin, itching at her from within and she can feel her hangover headache tightening like an iron band around her forehead.

Her coffee has just finished brewing when somebody steps into the kitchen and she stiffens, knowing instinctively who it is.

“You’re mad,” Lexa sighs quietly from behind her and she sounds so intensely sad that for a moment Clarke almost abandons her anger, before steeling herself.

“Um, yeah, I am.” She says, plainly, pouring her coffee into the mug and turning to watch Lexa shift uncomfortably under her dark gaze.

“I really am sorry, Clarke. You know I wouldn’t have missed it lightly.” She sighs and sinks into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“You  _ know _ how excited she was, Lexa. Do you know how hard it was telling her that her beloved aunt hadn’t turned up?” Lexa flinches as if every word is a physical blow but Clarke can’t stop the poison pouring out of her. “Whatever it was, you should have rescheduled.”

“You know that it isn’t always possible,” Lexa gives her a desperate look and when Clarke scoffs she hardens. “Miya trusts me, why don’t you?”

“Miya is  _ five _ ! You’re not a partner at that firm, Lexa, you weren’t performing surgery!”

“I’m not making excuses-”

“You have to think more carefully now!” Clarke stamps to the fridge, swinging it open to pull out milk. “Haven’t you realised that? You have these kids to think of, you can’t just abandon them when your schedules don’t fit in with theirs. What would Anya say?”

She can tell in a heartbeat that she’s crossed a line. Lexa freezes and fixes her with a look that is at once icy and hurt and Clarke’s stomach drops as she watches Lexa’s shoulders droop.

“Lex-“ She begins, weakly, but Lexa cuts through her.

“I was working on Anya’s case.”

Clarke pauses, frowning at her, puzzled. “Anya’s case? But I thought it was already decided… you said she had nine years?”

“Not… her case, not exactly,” Lexa runs a harried hand over her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. “It’s hard to explain.”

Slowly, Clarke lowers herself into the kitchen chair beside Lexa’s and speaks as softly as she can. “ I have time.”

Lexa’s eyes dart up to her, flicking back and forth uncertainly, as if trying to decide what to do before she finally lets out a heavy sigh. “Anya is in prison for assault with intent… she beat up Miya and Tris’s father.”

“Their father?” Clarke’s mouth drops open and she feels herself stiffen instinctively, though Lexa’s gaze turns pleading.

“It’s not as simple as that. He was an awful guy, treated her and the kids like shit, dropped in and out of their lives as he pleased. I never knew why she was even  _ with  _ him.”

“But she beat him up? Badly?” Clarke is almost frightened to ask and she steels herself when Lexa nods grimly.

“It was… pretty bad. He was in hospital.”

“Right,” Clarke doesn’t even realise that she’s gripping the table until Lexa’s eyes dart down to look at her white knuckles. Slowly, she forces herself to let it go and clasps her hands together above the table.

“Let me explain,” Lexa begs and at Clarke’s mute nods, heaves in a breath as if bracing herself for battle. “Grant was drunk all the time and when he got drunk he got violent… I don’t think he ever really went for Anya,” she gives a dry, humourless chuckle, “she gave as good as she got, better I’m pretty sure. I think she kept letting him come back on some misguided notion of a father for the kids… but he got angry so quickly. He used to scream at the kids, over nothing at all, made them cry and Anya would scream back, kick him out. He came back grovelling every time.” Lexa chances a glance at her and when she nods, continues shakily. “He hit Miya.” Her voice is so quiet that Clarke’s sharp intake of breath seems loud by comparison. “Around the face,” her voice cracks, “she was even younger then, even smaller. The bruise was awful.”

“And that’s when Anya went for him?” At Lexa’s shaky nod, Clarke lets out a trembling breath, her whole body slackening though her heart is heavy with the burden.

“Changes things, doesn’t it?” At Lexa’s voice she meets her eyes and sees them dull, lifeless, “the judge didn’t see it that way. The earlier abuse hadn’t been reported, so that couldn’t be taken into account. Miya was clearly hurt, anyone could see that, but it was just one bruise, she didn’t even have any permanent damage. Grant was… worse off. A couple of broken bones, a few nights in hospital, surgery. It was unnecessary force, the prosecution were good.” Lexa lets out a heavy sigh, “I’m not saying what Anya did was right… but I don’t think anyone else would have done any differently. It was just good luck that he didn’t hurt Miya even further.”

Lexa glances back at the kitchen door, where they can hear Miya’s cartoon and her brows crease.

“I… Lexa I had no idea.” Clarke is struggling for words, her shock pressing in on her from every side. She feels the unexplainable urge to go to Lexa, to go to Miya and pull them close, protected by her arms though the threat is long past.

“She’s such a sweet kid,” Lexa’s shoulders are crumbling in, heavy with sadness. “It’s affected them all, maybe not Tris because she was so little when it happened, but Miya and Aden definitely. They’re remarkably well adapted, considering.”

“And the thing you’re doing… is to do with this?” Clarke ventures cautiously.

“I’ve been petitioning our Senator to bring forward a bill creating mitigating circumstances in this sort of situation. He provisionally agreed today and wanted a briefing over Skype. Everything has to happen very quickly now; the best thing would be for it to go through before this Congressional term ends, which means before Christmas.”

“Lexa, that’s  _ amazing _ ,” She can’t stop herself reaching over and taking one of Lexa’s stiff, tense hands in hers, rubbing soothing circles on the skin. “You do all of this over and above your work for Indra?” Lexa’s nods, lips tight and Clarke’s heart clenches. She slides from her seat to crouch beside Lexa, “You’re incredible.”

“I’m not,” Lexa’s voice is trembling, as if she is on the brink of crying. “I should have been at Miya’s play. You were right… Anya would have been there.”

Clarke feels as if someone has punched her in the stomach and she gasps, shaking her head furiously. “No! No, Lexa I’m an idiot. I didn’t understand!”

“I’m not their mom!” Lexa’s voice is rising, tearing through an octave and Clarke places a tentative hand on her shoulder. “How am I ever supposed to do this? I’m not prepared, I’m not  _ good enough _ .”

“Hey!” Clarke pulls at her shoulder, tugging a reluctant Lexa around to look at her and taking both of her hands, “Stop talking like that! You are a perfectly good mother to these kids, you’ve done everything that could be expected of you.”

“But that’s not good enough,” Lexa’s fingers tighten around hers almost painfully and Clarke can see the tears sparkling, unshed, in her eyes. “They don’t deserve second best Clarke. They deserve  _ their mom _ .”

“Anya can’t be here right now, but  _ you are _ ,” Clarke can feel tears trembling in the back of her own throat and fights to cork them up, push them down, “she entrusted them to  _ you _ because she had faith in you, and so do I. But do you know what?” Lexa can’t seem to speak, chin shivering under the effort of holding back her tears, though a few are beginning to brim over and trail down her cheeks. “Most importantly, so do  _ they.  _ They trust you and they love you.”  _ And so do I.  _ The words go unsaid, caught like a fishhook in the back of her throat, but she barely has time to linger over them when Lexa crumbles forwards into her arms.

She falls apart before Clarke’s eyes, unloading her burdens piece by piece at Clarke’s feet, her arms curled around Clarke’s neck as the blonde holds her, running a soothing hand up and down her back. She is shuddering with her attempt to keep quiet, muffling herself against Clarke’s shoulder and Clarke clings to her. She would willingly let herself go, let herself spin to pieces to keep Lexa together and she tries to offer as much support as possible, gathering her into her arms like a child, murmuring comforting words. Every tear is like poison, stinging Clarke’s skin with the weight of Lexa’s fear, clearly held too tightly inside for far too long, and yet she makes no complaint, takes each battering willingly if it allows Lexa just a moment of peace.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa tries to mutter against her neck and Clarke hushes her instantly.

“Don’t be.”

Despite her words, Lexa drags her face away so that she can look at Clarke through red, bleary eyes, bringing up a hand to wipe at her tearstained cheeks. She is more open than Clarke has ever seen her, like someone waking up from a long sleep and light eyes dance across her face anxiously for a moment, before Lexa moves slowly forwards. She pauses just inches from Clarke’s lips, clearly letting the final decision be hers and Clarke meets her, though she knows that she perhaps shouldn’t. Lexa’s lips taste like salt and her nose is wet with tears, but she kisses her like Clarke is the air she’d forgotten how to breathe. They are soft this time, more like slowly smouldering coals than a raging fire and yet when Lexa pulls away, blinking heavy lashes, Clarke feels the ache of her absence more keenly than before.

“I’m not drunk this time,” Lexa breathes, lips parted slightly, wet and shocked and smiling just slightly.

“Neither am I,” Clarke’s fingers are still lingering against her neck and she curls her fingers into Lexa’s soft baby hair, twisting it into tendrils.  

They are left with only silence, heavy but warm and comforting, like an old blanket with a familiar scent.

\---

“Lexa, Lexa!” The hand on her shoulder startles her back to reality and she turns, blinking, to see Clarke stood behind her. She’s wearing a navy wrap dress, her hair a halo of golden, fluffy curls and her fingers tighten a little a comforting squeeze. “Penny for your thoughts?” She gives a soft, small smile and Lexa feels some of her tensed muscles reluctantly uncurl.

“Nothing really,” she turns, but Clarke doesn’t drop her touch. “Just waiting for Titus.”

“He’s not meant to be here for another ten minutes,” Clarke glances out of the living room window, behind Lexa’s head. “Don’t worry.”

Lexa lifts her lips in a slight, embarrassed smile. “I just… I have a bad feeling.”

“It’s okay to be worried,” Clarke gives her shoulder a little rub and Comet appears in the doorway, trotting up to them and nosing at Lexa’s hands expectantly, until she gives in and scratches his ears. “But the turkey is in the oven, along with everything else, I promise it’ll be just fine.”

“I suppose,” Lexa glances at the driveway again, “the kids are all ready? Not getting messy?”

“I left Aden playing his game thingy and Miya colouring-” she continues before Lexa can cut her off, “with crayons, not pens. Tris is fine,” she glances back at where the baby is sat in her play pen in the corner, gurgling.

“Okay,” Lexa lets out a shuddering breath, anxious eyes darting back to the driveway. “Okay,” she repeats, absent minded, “there’s nothing else to be done. Every other base is covered.”

“I’m sure he won’t stay too long.” Clarke turns away from her, crossing the room and leaning down to collect Tris into her arms. “Titus doesn’t seem like the kind of person to celebrate the holidays.”

“No,” Lexa can’t help her soft, wry smile, “that’s fairly accurate.”

“Oh,” Clarke’s eyes crease and Lexa follows her gaze, turning to the driveway. Her heart sinks at the sight of a dark Mercedes pulling up beside the house, though her stomach leaps in anxious excitement.

“He’s here,” she hurries through to the kitchen, where the kids are sat blessedly quietly, and hurries them up from their seats, “Titus is here guys, so just… on your best behaviour, okay?” They both nod and Lexa fixes Aden with a stern expression, “I mean it, Aden. I know you don’t get on that well with Titus but today is about being together as a family, understand?”

“Yes,” Aden glares down at his feet, scuffing his shoes on the floor, but Lexa doesn’t have a chance to reprimand him before the doorbell rings and she feels a fluster of nerves.

“This is going to be great,” she promises, though both siblings look less than convinced.

Clarke is already at the door, swinging it open and Comet is trapped in the dining room, though she can hear him whining loudly through the door. Lexa takes a few steps down the hallway and smiles widely at Titus when Clarke allows him into the house.

“Titus, thank you for coming,” she takes the coat he sheds and hangs it on a hook by the door.

“My pleasure,” Titus is calm and collected as always, surveying the house with a nod to Clarke and a cursory glance over the children in the kitchen doorway. “It smells delicious.” He sounds flat and robotic and Lexa feels as if she is ten years old again, being praised on a spelling bee.

“Thank you. Clarke and I worked hard, and the kids too.” She steps back to welcome him into the living room and Clarke follows, sinking into the armchair near the TV. Miya and Aden linger uncertainly in the doorway, before Aden urges his little sister in first, following on behind her.

There is enough room for at least one of them on the couch beside Titus, but they both choose to sit on the floor, closer to Clarke.

“How are you?” Lexa asks at last, the silence stiff and uncomfortable.

“Fine,” Titus nods, lips tight.

“Your journey wasn’t too bad?”

“No, the traffic was fine.” His brows tighten, “I may be called away to the office.”

“The office isn’t closed?” Clarke speaks up from the armchair, settling Tris on the floor when she fidgets and letting her crawl to her brother and sister. “It’s a holiday.”

“We are a multinational law firm,” Titus’s chest puffs up proudly and he continues patronisingly, “It isn’t a holiday everywhere.”

“Clarke can understand that,” Lexa cuts in hurriedly, when she sees Clarke’s eyes narrow. “She works in a hospital, don’t you, Clarke?”

“A hospital?” Titus eyes her with a newfound respect and Clarke manages to gather her manners enough to say civilly,

“Yes, I’m a medical intern.”

“Clarke won the Rose Tyson award for excellence a week or so ago,” Lexa adds, proudly and Clarke gives her a small, affectionate smile.

“Really?” Titus sounds less than interested, checking his watch. “Will we eat soon? I have a rather tight schedule to keep to.”

Clarke’s face darkens like a thundercloud and Lexa sees Aden’s mouth drop open at his rudeness, but she hurries to stand. There is a flush of shame in her chest, just as she had felt as a child, and she feels a bolt of irritation that Titus should still have such a hold on her, after so many years.

“Yes, of course. We were just darkening the skin on the turkey.”

The doorbell rings, cutting Titus off and Lexa brows furrow, glancing at Clarke in surprise. Clarke excuses herself to get it and reappears with a frown and a woman in a well-tailored suit, blonde hair pulled up into a smooth chignon at the back of her head.

“Ah,” Titus stands before Lexa can say anything, “Rebecca, what are you doing here?”

The woman- Rebecca- shakes the hand he holds out with a smile. “Your secretary told me where you were so I thought I would drop in on my way to the office.” She glances around the room and looks slightly mystified. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Titus waves away his waiting family with a brush of his hand and Lexa sees the children sink where they sit.

“Titus,” she can feel her voice wavering just a little and steels herself with the anger bubbling in her stomach. “What on earth is this?”

“Ah,” Titus steps back, as if to include Lexa in their little circle, “Rebecca this is who I was telling you about.”

“Alexandria,” Rebecca smiles, sickly sweet and utterly false, “a pleasure to meet you, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent addition to our team.”

Lexa stares at the hand she holds out to shake, until she drops it with a puzzled expression.

“Titus-”

“Rebecca is from the New York offices, Alexandria.” Titus seems completely oblivious to her fury. “She has an excellent position for you, six figure salary not including expenses-”

“I can’t believe you would do this.” Her voice is icy, quietly dangerous and Clarke’s eyes widen just slightly. “I can’t believe that you’d take something that could be so good and turn it into a business opportunity!”

“Really, Alexandria, don’t overreact.” Titus gives her a disapproving look. “Rebecca has come a long way; you could at least do her the service of  _ listening _ to what she has to say.”

“I don’t care what she has to say! I’m  _ not _ taking a job with you, and you know why!” Her voice is rising, slipping into a shout and she hears Tris begin to whimper behind her and Comet barking at the door anxiously.

“You are acting just like your sister,” Titus snaps, angrily and Lexa feels hot with rage.

“Good! Anya knew what you were like long before I did! I tried everything I could to please you and it was never,  _ never _ enough!”

“Because you squander too many opportunities! Look at yourself!” He gestures a hand around the room, as if he were surrounded by squalor. “Playing nanny to three unruly children, working at some tiny firm when you have the talent to be so much more than that! This is not how I raised you!”

“You  _ didn’t _ raise me!” She feels close to tears, her throat hot and tight with disappointment. “You were just  _ there _ , Anya raised me!”

“Anya walked out when you were fifteen!” He roars back, “she turned her back on everything I could have done for her and now look at her, she’s a  _ felon _ , violent and in prison, just where she should be!”

“Don’t talk about her that way! You have no idea about her, you never did, and you just  _ gave up on her _ .”

“This is not about Anya, it’s about you,” He returns firmly, “you’ve had your fun, you’ve rebelled against me and played house. Now it’s time to do what I always taught you.”

“You didn’t teach me anything,” she shakes her head, her breathing becoming ragged, “This is my life now and I  _ like it _ . I’m not a child, you don’t know what’s best for me. Your firm isn’t some empire I’m destined to take over. You adopted a  _ child _ , not a pawn. I thought-” her voice breaks and she struggles past it, desperately trying to gather herself. “I thought this would be nice, the beginning of some sort of  _ family _ , but… I think you should leave.”

“I agree,” Clarke steps in from where she’s been hovering to Lexa’s side, watching in horrified awe. “I’ll show you out.” Her voice leaves no room for argument and Titus looks between them all, his lip curling in disgust.

“Fine. But I do know what’s best for you, Alexandria. I always have. You’ll see.”

He turns on his heel, Rebecca following after him like an obedient puppy and Lexa sinks onto the couch on shaking legs, cradling her head in her hands as the tears begin to leak from her eyes. A small hand on her arm startles her upwards and she sees that Miya has scrambled up beside her, eyes wide and beseeching. Aden has settled onto the couch on her other side and he offers out Tris, who crawls into her lap and curls herself up against Lexa’s chest. The baby isn’t crying, but she is whimpering and cuddles close into Lexa’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa curls an arm around Miya, lets the little girl snuggle into her side. She sniffs, wipes at her eyes, “you shouldn’t have heard that, shouldn’t have seen it.”

“It’s okay,” Aden leans into her shoulder, “it’s not your fault, Aunty Lexa.”

“It wasn’t true, you know that don’t you?” Her eyes swivel from Miya to Aden, “your mom is a good person, she doesn’t deserve any of this. Titus was just… he’s just upset at the whole situation.”

“He was mean to you,” Miya tucks herself in closer to Lexa’s side. “And mommy.”

“I know,” Lexa runs a hand down Miya’s head, smoothing back her hair. “He shouldn’t have been mean about your mom, I’m sorry.”

“But he was mean to  _ you _ too,” Miya is frowning, “he upset you. He shouldn’t do that, that’s not nice.”

Lexa looks down at her, her face open and completely innocent, and heaves in a shuddering breath. “No,” she agrees quietly, “he really shouldn’t.”

The blaring of the fire alarm startles them all so much that Miya nearly falls off the couch and Tris begins a short, startled wailing. Lexa is on her feet in a second, clutching Tris close to her chest and when she steps out into the hallway, there is a wisp of dark smoke escaping the kitchen. Clarke is stood in front of the oven, which is open and belching out smoke, simultaneously trying to shut the door and waft at the fire alarm.

Lexa deposits Tris into Aden’s arms. “Stay here,” she instructs him and his sister and hurries in to help Clarke. “What happened?” She shouts over the screaming of the alarm and twists the oven off, shutting the door as Clarke drags a chair over to the fire alarm.

“We were browning the turkey skin, remember?” The alarm falls blessedly silent when Clarke manages to extract the batteries and Lexa breathes out a sigh of relief. “I think we may have had it up too high.”

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Lexa turns to the oven, grabbing a towel to pull the door open and waft away the smoke that strings her eyes and nostrils, pulling out the blackened remains of their turkey to dump unceremoniously into the sink. She looks from Clarke to the turkey in despair, “what are we going to do?”

“Our  _ turkey _ ?” Lexa spins to see Miya and Aden in the doorway, Miya’s face is completely aghast, “what  _ happened _ ?”

“Aunty Lexa and Clarke might have forgotten about the turkey,” Lexa runs a hand over her face, pressing at her eyes.

“What are we going to do without turkey?” Aden frowns, letting Clarke take Tris from his arms. “It’s not Thanksgiving without a turkey.”

“We’ll… figure something out,” Lexa casts about the kitchen in search of inspiration. “Maybe we can go out and buy a cooked one? There has to be a store open somewhere, right? This is America.”

“Lex,” Clarke hitches Tris closer into her arms as Lexa leans over to open the kitchen window above the sink, wafting at the smoking carcass of their roast with a towel. “It’s Thanksgiving day, you aren’t going to find a store open that will sell you turkey.”

“Maybe we have some frozen chicken…” The children look so appalled at the idea that she lets her voice trail off.

“I have an idea,” Clarke speaks into the resulting silence uncertainly. “Didn’t you say that they’re doing a Thanksgiving thing at the… at the prison?”

“Well… yes, they are,” Lexa purses her lips, looking to the disappointed children leaning against the doorway. “I don’t know how great the food will be but… we could go.”

“To see momma?” Miya’s eyes light up and even Aden cracks a smile at the suggestion. “Yes! Yes let’s go see momma!”

“There you go,” Clarke gives her a satisfied smile, “you go see your mom, it’ll be fun.”

“You don’t mind going to a prison for your Thanksgiving holiday?” Lexa casts her a sceptical glance and Clarke shifts, uncomfortably, busying herself with cleaning the drying tears from Tris’s cheeks.

“I’ll stay here, order Chinese.”

“No!” Aden interjects before Lexa can, “you have to come Clarke, you’re family.”

Clarke flushes, smiling with delight, and Lexa feels a curl of warmth in her stomach. “Yes,” she agrees earnestly, “if you want to… it would be lovely to have you with us, Clarke.”

\---

Clarke has never been to a prison before. In fact she’s almost ashamed to say that, with the exception of binge watching Orange is the New Black, she has basically no idea about her country’s prison system. The kids seem more at ease than her, easily surrendering their possessions into lockers at the door. They load their coats, hats and scarves onto a scanner, along with Miya’s bunny and Tris’s diaper bag and walk through a metal detector. Aden is pulled aside to be randomly checked, but he stands still and unbothered as they pat him down and Miya and Tris wait, uncomplaining. They are led down a few corridors by a scowling guard who tells them, shortly, that their Thanksgiving event is taking place in the yard and they will be obliged to leave sharply at four o’clock.

The corridors smell faintly like the hospital, but there is a sharp, unpleasant tang to them that makes Clarke wrinkle her nose. They walk past a rec room with a few inmates milling inside, but which is otherwise barren and depressing, and are led through another door into the yard. It is little more than a courtyard with a strip of grass towards the back, but it has been crudely decorated with cheerful paper Thanksgiving decorations and is full of inmates and their families and friends. To their left they are serving out a gloopy, discoloured version of Thanksgiving dinner, mostly from large metal trays, but what it lacks in looks, it makes up for in smell, and Clarke is so distracted by it that she startles when the guard behind them bellows,

“Woods! You’ve got visitors!”

Clarke isn’t quite sure where to look. Half of the prison turns at the sound of his voice and she casts about as subtly as she can to find a girl who looks like Lexa. The kids, however, take off running through the yard and Clarke follows the direction of Lexa’s smile to a woman levering herself off a picnic blanket, looking shocked and delighted. She’s taller than Lexa, stronger too by the set of her shoulders and arms, and is wearing regulation beige pants that remind Clarke unerringly of her scrubs, a white shirt and a grey zip up sweatshirt. Aden reaches her first and Clarke feels a swell of emotion when Anya pulls him close, hugging him so tightly Clarke fears she may hurt him. Miya barrels into her legs and nearly sends them all toppling to the ground, but Anya catches her and steadies them all. She pulls Miya up into her arms, kissing her soundly and saying something that makes them both giggle.

“That’s your sister?” Clarke breathes out, almost disbelieving. Anya looks remarkably normal and it’s only now, upon seeing all of these regular women with their families, that Clarke realises she had been expecting something far worse and feels a hot rush of shame.

“Yeah,” Lexa is still smiling, “that’s Anya.”

They make their way towards her at a slightly slowly pace, but Anya opens her arms to her sister and clasps Lexa in a delicate hug, wary of the baby she is holding.

“Lex, it’s so good to see you,” she happily takes Tris from Lexa’s arms and Clarke is momentarily nervous, but the baby goes to her with obvious delight, warbling out half formed words like a baby bird crying to her mother and flinging little hands around Anya’s neck. “Hello my beautiful baby,” Anya’s voice is so soft and tender that Clarke’s heart almost breaks and she peppers kisses across the baby’s cheeks and nose, making her giggle wildly. “I missed you so much,” the words are clearly not intended to be heard, murmured against Tris’s skin and Clarke averts her eyes, looking to her feet, glancing at Lexa’s smiling face.

“How are you, An?” Lexa squeezes her sister’s arm.

“Great for seeing you guys,” Anya’s reaches out her free hand to tousle Aden’s hair and press Miya against her hip. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were coming?”

“We had… something of a turkey malfunction,” Lexa grimaces awkwardly and Clarke is startled when Anya throws her head back and laughs raucously.

“Well that suits me just fine!”

“Momma,” Miya tugs on Anya’s hand, beaming up at her excitedly, “this is Clarke! Who we told you about!”

Anya levels her with a thoughtful gaze, eyes flickering up and down her body in a blatant assessment and Clarke does her best not to flinch under her scrutiny, giving a wan smile and waving her hand awkwardly.

“Hi, good to meet you.”

“Yeah, it’s about time we met,” Anya lets go of Miya’s hand to hold hers out and offers Clarke a rough, firm handshake. It’s not quite a greeting, but Clarke tries to take it as well as she can. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Her eyes widen in honest surprise, “you have?”

“From the kids,” Lexa puts in and Clarke can’t ignore the blush suffusing her cheeks.

Anya hums her agreement and moves her attention back down to her children. Clarke watches as her features soften, “Well I guess you guys haven’t eaten then? We should get something before everyone else does!”

Miya nods her agreement, but Lexa hesitates, “Clarke and I can stay here… save the blanket?”

Anya’s eyes, piercing, dart between them again before she gives a slight shrug, “Yeah sure, that’ll be fine. We’ll be back soon. Come on, guys.”

They stand together to watch the family troop away across the yard and Clarke can’t help the relieved breath that escapes her. Lexa looks at her and gives an apologetic smile, sitting carefully onto the blanket. Clarke moves to join her, hands tracing over the scratchy red fabric cautiously before she finally lowers herself down and she sees people eyeing them with interest.

“Sorry,” Lexa says, quietly and Clarke’s eyes widen again, looking to her with surprise. Lexa lets out a soft, uncomfortable bite of laughter, “my sister can be sort of intense.”

“Makes sense, somewhere like this,” She worries she’s said the wrong thing by drawing attention to where they are, but Lexa only shrugs.

“Yeah… I talk to her on the phone once a week, the kids too sometimes, but I think she’s handling this place pretty well.”

Silence settles between them again and Clarke’s eyes wander the prison curiously. It’s only women, all in various combinations of the same uniform. Some are with families, others take the opportunity to relax outside with friends. A woman sits by the chain link fence reading and she can hear that the three old ladies by the picnic bench are loudly arguing about Obama’s foreign policy over their cards. It’s a bleak place, regardless of the normalcy that seems to settle over the inmates and the celebration of Thanksgiving and Clarke shivers at the thought of nine years here, separated from her family.

She turns her eyes back to Lexa, who has tilted her face up to catch the few rays of wintery sunlight piercing through the clouds. “I’m sorry about Titus.”

Lexa’s eyes flicker open, her expression twisting with concern. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It… it was a long time coming, but still. I should have handled it better.”

“No.” Clarke cuts her off, “No, stop apologising. I’m glad you stood up to him, I’m glad you told him where to go. Some people don’t respond to civility, Lexa, they just keep pushing and pushing until you finally crack.”

“Still,” Lexa shrugs half-heartedly, appearing torn, “he was the closest thing I had to a parent… I inherited some of his uptight sensibilities.” She gives a wry smile.

“I didn’t… I mean, I don’t know a lot about your childhood,” Clarke stumbles awkwardly over her words, forcing them out. “It’s not my business either, but… you and Anya are clearly close and I want you to know that you don’t need to pursue Titus for a family. You have one, y’know. Right here.”

Lexa is watching her curiously and her cheeks heat as Clarke speaks. She looks away shyly, picking at the blanket beneath her and it takes her a few moments to reply. “Thank you. I think I’m starting to understand that now.”

Miya falls into place next to Clarke with a huff and the slopping of plastic trays, two of which are clutched in her hands. She pushes one into Clarke’s lap, ignoring Lexa calls for her to be careful and offers her a toothy grin.

“We brought you both lunch!”

Aden gives Lexa her tray slightly more carefully and settles next to her while Anya and Tris sit across from them both, effectively closing up their little circle. It’s warm, thanks to the sun peering through grey clouds and Clarke pokes at the suspicious looking sludge on her tray for a few minutes, before finding that it’s actually a fairly tasty concoction of slightly spicy Thanksgiving food. They are given hot tea to drink and warm their hands, and she is able to sit back and watch as the children swarm upon their mother, cuddling her and talking a mile a minute about school and friends and TV. She is vaguely awed by the way Anya handles them, balancing them against each other like a soccer referee and when Tris throws a tantrum over being forced to wear her little mittens, she expertly cradles the baby up into her arms, soothing and petting her into near sleep without even breaking her conversation with Aden.

An hour or so into their stay, a kids club of sorts is created by one of the wardens and a few inmates, and when one comes jogging up to her, spritely and full of energy, offering to entertain the kids for a little while, Anya looks them over with a critical eye before nodding. Miya darts off without any qualms when offered the chance of colouring and Aden slopes off a minute later when the inmate offers a game of soccer.

Tris is being entertained with her plush lion, babbling to it intently on the blanket between them, and Anya looks longingly off to where the children are playing, before turning her attention back to the two of them.

“What happened to the Titus thing?” She asks without preamble, and Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Nothing,” Lexa answers as calmly as possible, and a tension settles between the two sisters which is almost palpable.

Clarke looks between them and turns her attention down to playing with Tris.

“Spit it out, Lex,” Anya rolls her eyes, “you know it’ll come out eventually.”

“It was nothing,” Lexa repeats, petulantly and Anya rolls her eyes heartily at her stubbornness.

“Clarke,” Clarke startles when Anya turns her eagle eyes on her. “You tell me. Save us all some time.”

“I…” Clarke darts a glance at Lexa.

“Anya,” her sister scolds, “you’re making her feel uncomfortable.”

“Why?” Anya asks smartly, cocking an eyebrow at her. “It’s just a question.”

“There was… an argument,” Clarke admits at last, and Anya frowns.

“Clarke!” Lexa spins and glares at her, and Clarke purses her lips.

“What? Who are you protecting by not telling her?  _ Titus _ ? He doesn’t deserve your protection!” She rails on Lexa.

“What did he say?” Anya turns her look on Lexa, who squirms under her gaze and eventually admits,

“Just what he always says… he brought some woman to try and pitch a new job to me. The kids didn’t hear anything too bad, don’t worry.”

“The kids were there?” Anya’s eyes widen and Clarke sees a flash of fury work through her features, before dropping into sullen irritation. “Classic Titus, never thinking about anyone but himself.”

“Well,” Lexa has averted her gaze, looking uncomfortably at the floor. “He won’t be welcomed back any time soon.”

Anya’s face splits into a grin and she retrieves Tris’s toy when the baby tosses it across the blanket, smoothing down her hair. “You kicked him out? That’s more like it.” Lexa lets out a huff, rolling her eyes at her sister, and Anya laughs. “So, Clarke, tell me about yourself.”

“Oh,” Clarke blinks at her for a moment, stranded for words and Lexa frowns.

“Anya, stop it.”

“What?” Anya gives her sister a sidelong look, “I want to know about the woman looking after my kids, is that so weird?”

“No,” Clarke pipes up, finally finding her voice.

“Exactly,” Anya gives her a satisfied smile and accepts Tris when the baby tries to clamber into her lap, “so Lexa says you’re a paediatric resident? And a good one too, by the sounds of it; you took her to some awards dinner?”

Clarke sees Lexa flush hotly from the corner of her eye and sucks in a breath, wondering exactly how much Lexa has told her sister about that evening. “Yeah, I work at the hospital,” she gives Anya a weak smile.

“Busy job,” Anya observes, catching Tris’s grabbing fingers with her own, “you got any time for a social life? Dating?”

Lexa turns an almost puce colour and Clarke feels her own cheeks heat up, swallowing against her suddenly dry throat.

“Um, no I haven’t- I haven’t dated in a while.”

“I see,” Anya looks between them for a moment, before raising an eyebrow, “so what’s going on with the two of you? You’re not dating, just sleeping together?”

Clarke’s mouth drops open and Lexa makes a strangled noise.

They are cut off by the squabbling voices of Miya and Aden approaching them, escorted by the formerly spritely inmate, who now looks rather worn down. Anya fixes them both with a look that could freeze blood and they both fall sullen and silent, settling onto the blanket.

“Too much for you, Tunman?” Anya smirks and Clarke follows Tunman’s despairing gaze back to where her kids’ club has dissolved into petty rows.

“They turned out to be a bit… boisterous,” replies the wispy inmate and Anya laughs again, that full, hearty laugh that Clarke has come to recognise.

“Kids are, Tunman, especially that many together at once. Thanks for trying though.”

Tunman hums thoughtfully and turns to hurry back to her group before someone loses an eye to a shiv made of crayons. Anya turns to look at her two oldest charges, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

The children squirm, just as Lexa had done moments earlier and Clarke notices that even Lexa is uncomfortably not meeting her sister’s gaze.

“Well?” Anya says at last, “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

“Aden kicked his soccer ball at my head,” Miya pouts, glaring at her brother and Aden’s chest puffs up with indignation.

“I did  _ not _ , mom she’s lying!”

“You did  _ so _ ! It nearly hit me!”

“It was way far away from you!”

“Okay.” Anya claps her hands together twice, clearly a signal they understand because they fall silent in a second. “That’s enough of that. Aden, be more careful. Miya, as long as you’re not hurt, stop making such a fuss.”

They both pout for a minute, before clearly simultaneously deciding not to ruin their day with their mother. Miya produces the drawing she had been doing, of all of them- even Clarke, with straw coloured hair and blue dots for eyes- eating a turkey the size of the cow, including, inexplicably, Comet as a dragon and gifts it to her mom, who beams over it. Aden begins eagerly telling her about amount of times he can kick the soccer ball in the air and Miya lies on the picnic blanket to play with Tris, adding bunny to the collection of plush toys. Tris gurgles happily and Clarke watches them with growing warmth until they are abruptly interrupted.

“Ma-ma.”

They all freeze, even Aden, and the baby looks between them all, clearly frustrated by their lack of response. She reaches out for Anya, fingers grabbing for her, and demands again.

“Mama!”

Lexa lets out something that sounds like a half cry, a stuttering, staggered sound of immense joy and Anya launches herself forward to scoop the baby into her arms, pressing her close to herself. Tris squirms happily, cuddling up to her and Clarke can feel tears prickling in her eyes. Her heart feels too full, overflowing through her chest and filling her with liquid warmth. Lexa fumbles in her pocket and pulls out a tissue, pressing it against her eyes as Anya presses a kiss to Tris’s cheek, tears streaming unabashedly down her face.

“Yes baby, that’s me. I’m mama.” Her voice is cracking, breaking over her words and Tris squirms again, this time reaching out for her plush lion.

Clarke snags it off the picnic blanket, passing it to her and Tris  presses it against her mother’s chest and neck.

“Mama,” she says again, her brows pulling together and Clarke sees Lexa’s shoulder shudder anew.

She pulls an arm around her, letting Lexa lean into her side and wipes away a few of her own tears with the back of her hand.

“That’s right Tris, this is mama,” Aden sounds incredibly tender, his voice soft and gentle and he touches his sister’s head gently.

“Her first word,” Miya is beaming and willingly gives over her toy bunny when Tris scrambles for it.

The baby presses it further against her mama, who is still weeping quietly above her, and tugs at her shirt. Anya lifts Tris closer back into her arms, cradling her, and Clarke feels Lexa shudder again at her side and tightens her hold on her.

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was everything you wanted guys! This was the key chapter in my mind. Thank you so much for reading and please let me know below or on tumblr what you think.


	8. December I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up your angst seatbelts darlings, things are about to get bumpy. December is split into three parts.

_ December _

It’s late and Clarke is bone weary from four long days of tramping through corridors too bright with strip lighting and not enough sleep, but when the knock comes on her door she looks up from where she is curled up sleepily on her bed, scrolling through her phone to see Lexa stood hesitantly in the doorway, holding two steaming mugs and smiling uncertainly.

“Oh hey,” Clarke looks up, surprised, “I thought maybe Miya had had another nightmare.”

“Nope,” Lexa raises her mugs in offering. “Just me.”

“Come in,” Clarke levers herself up from the bed, shuffling over to make room for Lexa to slide in beside her. “There’s room for two, especially people who come bearing what I suspect might be cocoa.”

“Excellent deduction skills,” Lexa grins, stepping into the room at last and handing the brightly teal coloured mug with two gawky looking cats on it to her. Clarke cradles it, inhaling gratefully and gives Lexa a fond smile.

“Do you know how long it is since I had cocoa? Not since I was camping as a kid.” She takes a slurping sip and blanches at the heady, heavy taste that hits her tongue, tearing the mug away from her mouth and spluttering.

“I may have added something to make it a little more adult,” Lexa admits with a sly grin over the top of her own mug.

“Have you put  _ Baileys _ in this?” At Lexa’s nod, she throws back her head, laughing roughly and tries to ignore the way that Lexa’s cheeks heat. “Lexa! I never would have expected it from you!”

“I like to surprise from time to time,” Lexa’s cheeks are still flushed and she takes a demure taste of her drink. “Anyway it’s December, nearly Christmas.”

“It’s only  _ just  _ December,” Clarke levels her with a feigning frown, “you are a menace, Lexa Woods. I love it.”

It seems impossible that Lexa’s cheeks could flush any further, but she turns pink and Clarke lets the silence settle comfortably between them, the alcohol warming her blood and the cocoa soothing her into a peaceful, nostalgic mood. Lexa takes another long sip next to her, shifting, but when their legs brush together Lexa jerks away, stiffening just slightly. Clarke’s brows furrow and when she opens her mouth to check on her, Lexa beats her to it.

“I think we should talk.”

The Baileys seems to curdle and turn sour in her stomach and she feels a wash of icy dread soak through her. “We- we are talking.”

Lexa gives her an exasperated look before softening, “I mean… about us Clarke. The kiss…  _ kisses _ ,” she corrects herself, flushing again, “I don’t want things to be weird.”

“Right,” Clarke can feel her voice shaking, quavering in her throat. “Yeah that makes sense.” She trails off, but Lexa is looking at her so expectantly that she feels her has to gather herself and lunge blindly onwards, watching Lexa’s face carefully for a reaction. “I… I guess I um, I like you Lexa.” Only silence meets her stuttered, awkward proclamation and she feels her words begin to spill from her like a waterfall, tumbling over her tongue and falling heavily between them. “I don’t just go around kissing people, you know, I think you’re funny and smart and so beautiful and I… I want to be with you. I want to take you on a date… dates. I want to date you.”

Lexa is staring at her with wide, panicked eyes, like a rabbit caught in headlights and Clarke feels her momentary confidence falter and shudder at her distinct, deafening silence.

Lexa seems to sense her uncertainty because she says weakly, “Clarke I… I’m so flattered, but… the kids, I can’t do this to them. It isn’t fair.”

Just like that, Clarke feels herself deflate, shrinking back into the bed. “But… I’m part of their lives.” She argues, in a very small voice, “you know they like me.”

“What if we date and then split up?” Lexa counters, staring down at her drink, “they’ve already lost one mother Clarke.”

“What if we  _ don’t _ ?”

Lexa presses her lips together, unable to meet her eyes and says, quietly. “This kind of environment is not the best for a new relationship. It’s just not worth getting them invested in us as a pair unless we can guarantee it.”

“You can’t guarantee anything in life,” Clarke offers, but even she knows that she is fighting a losing battle. Every word from her lips causing Lexa to shut down, stiffening and pressing her lips into a tighter and tighter line.

“I want to give them all of the stability I can,” She says at last, with a note of finality. “I’m sorry, it’s not a good idea.”

“Fine,” Clarke softens, hunching over herself in defeat and Lexa seems to melt beside her. Her voice turns tender and anxious and a gentle hand touches at Clarke’s shoulder, urging her eyes up.

“Can we still be friends? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or move out,” Lexa’s voice trembles a little, “I’d hate that.”

“Yeah, of course,” Clarke answers automatically and considers for a moment before saying, slowly. “But can you promise me you’ll think about it… about us? If you decide no, it won’t change anything I promise. I just think we could be great together.”

Lexa looks her over, large eyes anxious and impeaching before she finally sighs and surrenders. “I promise.”

\---

“Miya, don’t put your fingers against the glass you’ll leave smudges! Aden, stop pushing at your sister!” Lexa runs a harried hand through her hair, reaching out to tug them both back from the living room window by their collars. They fall back on their haunches obediently, smiling at her impishly and Miya falls to the floor to start playing with her soft toys again, collecting them all in a group to continue her elaborate game.

Aden slumps into the armchair to watch her, glancing out of the window every few minutes.

“When are they meant to get here, Aunt Lexa?”

“Clarke went to pick them up from the train station half an hour ago, so I’m sure they’ll be here any minute,” Lexa assuages him and bends to check on the baby where she is playing on her mat..

“What do you think Clarke’s parents will be like, Aunty Lexa?” Miya rolls onto her stomach, no doubt crinkling her blue polka dot dress beneath her.

“I’m sure they’ll be lovely,” Tris reaches up for her when she goes to sit on the couch, so Lexa takes her into her arms and cradles her close, making soothing noises. 

“Probably,” Miya agrees readily, “Kids are like their mommys and daddys, and Clarke is lovely.”

“Right,” Lexa agrees after a second’s pause. “You’ve been doing a lot about parents at school, haven’t you Miya?”

Miya nods seriously, “Yes, we’re learning about families.”

“Does your teacher ask you about your family?” Lexa settles on the couch with Tris on her knee and watches Miya as she begins organising her toys by colour. “Does she ask you about home?”

“We all talk about our families,” Miya makes her little dog jump on the bunny, engaging them in a vigorous wrestling match, though Lexa isn’t sure if they’re meant to be kissing instead. “Evie Sauder has two daddies.”

“That’s nice,” Lexa smiles weakly.

“But I don’t have any daddy,” Miya tells her, conversationally and Lexa swallows, opening her mouth to explain before Miya cuts in. “I have three mommies,” she pauses, her hands stilling on her toys as she thinks, “maybe… two mommies and a half. Because Clarke is more like a big sister… or a babysitter.”

“Clarke… Clarke isn’t your mommy babe,” Miya doesn’t cast her much of a glance, “Miya,” at the sound of her name Miya looks up and edges closer when Lexa waves her over. “You know that Clarke and I… neither of us are your real mommy. We’re just… standing in. And Clarke might not always be with us.”

“What?” Aden’s voice wavers, shooting up anxiously and when Lexa looks over his eyes are wide. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lexa lets out a soft, frustrated sound, stroking a hand over Miya’s dark hair when the little girl’s lower lip quivers threateningly. “Clarke isn’t… family. She’s great and it’s nice to have her here but one day she may want to move out… start a family of her own.”

“But Clarke is a part of  _ our _ family,” Miya argues, frowning petulantly, “why would she want to go? She’d have to leave us.”

“Is Clarke moving out?” Aden demands and Lexa’s eyes spin to him in surprise.

“No, not at all! Clarke is here for the foreseeable future.”

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Aden responds stubbornly, looking back to his Gameboy. “Clarke isn’t going anywhere.”

The sound of a car in the driveway startles them all from the squabble and Miya shoots up, Aden twisting to peer over the back of the armchair and out of the window as Comet startles up from where he has been gnawing on his bone beside the door. Lexa can hear his paws skidding against the wooden floorboards in the hall as he skitters away and moments later begins to bark.

“It’s Clarke!” Aden tells them, excitedly, scrambling off the armchair and out into the hall.

Lexa stands, holding Tris on her hip and goes to the window to look out. Clarke is climbing from her car, blonde hair hidden under a woollen hat, leather jacket thrown over her sweater and she turns back to hold the door open for a woman with long brown hair braided down her back and a friendly smile. Lexa watches as the man in the car, clearly Clarke’s father, joins them and points at the house in a broad sweep. Clarke throws back her head to laugh and Clarke’s mother rolls her eyes, nudging at his shoulder. Clarke catches sight of her in the window and Lexa, caught in her spying, gives an awkward wave, which Clarke cheerfully returns.

The kids have pulled open the door and Lexa manages to get to the hallway in time to corral both children and dog back a few steps by the time Clarke ushers her parents inside.

“Hi,” She smiles uncertainly at the new people. “You must be Mr and Mrs Griffin.”

“Call us Jake and Abby, please,” Abby steps forwards to clasp the hand Lexa has held out between both of hers. “You must be Lexa.”

“That’s me,” her smiles relaxes slightly as she shakes Jake Griffin’s hand, “welcome, please come in out of the cold.”

“Oh, this isn’t cold,” Jake laughs gruffly, shrugging off his coat and Abby rolls her eyes again as he begins, “this is practically balmy weather, should have brought my sunscreen.” He makes a show of pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead and Miya lets out a giggle at his absurdity.

Comet slips past Lexa's legs to bark in welcome at them, trotting around their heels and sniffing them furiously until Clarke wrestles the door shut and he jumps up at her, licking at her hands.

"Whoa, Comet," Clarke tickles his ears and scratches at his nose, "down boy." The puppy sits back obediently, though his tail is wiggling desperately against the floor and he is practically convulsing with the effort of not jumping back up at her. "Good boy," she praises him, lavishing him in cuddles and Comet jumps back to his feet, licking enthusiastically at her face.

"Sorry," Lexa smiles apologetically, hitching Tris further into her arms. "He's still a baby, he gets excited."

"She always wanted a dog," Abby grins ruefully and Jake offers the puppy a few scratches behind the ears as Clarke rises, cheeks turning pink.

"Guys, this is the family. Um... family, this is my mom and dad." She gestures between them, uncharacteristically awkward.

"I'm Aden," the boy steps forward to smile at them, though his hands are buried in his pockets.

"And this is Tris, and Miya," Clarke edges closer so that Miya can shuffle into her side, peering up at the newcomers with wide eyes.

Abby and Jake offer friendly greetings and Clarke urges them all into the living room, taking Tris from Lexa's arms to kiss softly at the side of her head.

"Hi," she smiles softly at Lexa.

"Hey, okay journey?" Lexa feels a flurry of  _ something _ in her stomach and quashes it with all of her strength.

"Yeah, traffic was kind of a... witch with a b. If you know what I mean." Clarke makes a face and Lexa can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, I think I got it." She looks back at where Jake and Abby are sat on the couch, admiring the room and Aden and Miya linger by the armchair. "Can I get coffee for anyone? Tea?"

"Oh, we're only passing through at the moment," Abby offers an apologetic grimace, "unfortunately I have to meet a colleague at two and we wanted to get lunch with Clarke beforehand."

"Oh, that's fine," Lexa catches Comet by the collar when he tries to squirrel between her legs, keeping him in place until he sits beside her feet, obedient and panting as he waits for her to let him into the room.

"But they're going to come back for dinner tonight, is that okay?" Clarke looks between Lexa and her parents, eager and anxious.

"We don't want to put you out." Jake adds, firmly, "we can take you all out if you want, or I could cook?"

" _ Don't _ take him up on that," Abby advises with a wry smile and Lexa laughs again, the tension easing from her shoulders.

"I can cook, don't worry. Do you eat everything?"

"I'll empty the cupboards if I can," Jake winks exaggeratedly and Aden laughs, edging bravely closer to linger beside the arm of the couch. "We just wanted to stop by with a little something?"

"A little something?" Lexa's eyes crease and she glances to Clarke, who is beginning to colour again.

"I told them they didn't have to do this," she tells Lexa, rolling her eyes, "but they wouldn't be persuaded, so don't blame me."

"It's nearly Christmas," Jake continues, reaching for the plastic bag at his side. "So we figured Santa could visit earlier than usual."

He draws the bag into his lap and, with all the flourish of a man who has done this many times before for other small children, pulls out three brightly wrapped packages. Aden lets out a soft  _ whoa  _ and Miya squeaks in excitement, crossing the space between them in a heartbeat.

"Is this okay?" Clarke looks to her, brows pulled together, "they just wanted to do something nice."

"They're just small things," Abby assures her, rising to stand close to them as the kids are handed their gifts by Jake.

They both turn to look up at Lexa with wide, pleading eyes and Lexa nods, rolling her eyes when they immediately fall to tearing open their presents.

"Pokemon Ruby Omega!" Aden reveals a small box, his eyes lighting up with excitement, "all my friends have this! Thank you so much!" He instantly rushes across the room to unbox it and shove it into his Nintendo.

"The guy at the shop told us Pokemon was very in now," Abby gives a half despairing shrug and Jake grins.

"Yeah, apparently it's an app now. Different from when Clarke collected hundreds of those cards."

"Dad!" Clarke is flushing again when Lexa turns to look at her with a growing smile.

"You collected Pokemon?" She asks, almost laughing when Clarke's skin darkens even further.

"I'm pretty sure she took some of them to college, right sweetie?" Jake just laughs through his wife's scolding gaze and Lexa can't help but giggle.

"They're very valuable now, y'know," Clarke pokes out her tongue at her father and Abby tears through the paper around Tris’s present to reveal a collection of small wooden animals, all carefully painted. Tris wriggles in Clarke’s arms, her eyes instantly caught by the colourful giraffe and reaches for it when Abby passes it over. Lexa lets Comet's collar go so that he can scamper across the room and sniff around Miya as she struggles to tear through her paper.

"Want some help Mi?" Lexa settles on the floor beside the little girl and helps her with the tough tape, ripping through the paper to reveal something luridly pink and purple.

Miya gasps, clutching at the toy to pull it from the paper and stare at the fluffy unicorn in her lap. "My Little Pony! Look Aunty Lexa!"

"Oh, yes," Lexa gives her a tender smile, moving the paper to one side so that Comet can tear through it, tangling his feet in the ribbon. "Very nice darling. What do you say?"

"Thank you!" Miya gives Jake a wide, toothy smile, still clutching the unicorn tightly to her chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best grandpa ever!"

Lexa lets out a strangled noise and even Jake seems momentarily startled, blinking for a second before schooling his features into a smile, weak and uncertain.  Lexa's eyes dart to Clarke, who is staring at Miya with an open mouthed astonishment and she feels her heart sink as she realises exactly how intertwined their lives are.

\---

"I wish you were that well behaved when you were younger."

Clarke rolls her eyes over her pasta, watching as her mother grins at her from across the table. "What are you talking about? I was a delight."

Abby laughs aloud, shaking her head, "Are you kidding? You were a nightmare! Aden and Miya are angels compared to you."

"Don't feel bad," her father reaches over as if to ruffle her hair and Clarke shies away, "you were spoiled. A classic only child."

"I was  _ not  _ spoiled!"

"You were," Abby cuts a gaze at Jake, raising her eyebrows sceptically, "remember when you had a pony for three hours?"

This time Jake cringes, wrinkling his nose and popping a fry in his mouth to admit around it, "That may have been an impulse buy."

"We didn't even have a  _ yard _ , dad."

"You weren't complaining at the time!"

"Regardless," Abby cuts in before they can deteriorate into an argument. "Those kids are so sweet, Lexa should be very proud and so should her sister."

"I think she is," Clarke gives her a soft smile, "I just wish she would have a little more faith in herself."

"Parenting is always difficult at first," Jake shrugs, "and normally they're a newborn, so they can't tell if you screw up."

They all chuckle at his words and Clarke pushes her pasta across her plate for a moment before asking, quietly. "Did you mind that Miya called you grandpa?"

Her father looks startled at the question, staring at her in surprise for a moment. His eyes dart to Abby uncertainly before moving back to Clarke. "I just... don't want her to be confused, honey." He answers, delicately and Clarke sighs.

"I can't... it's hard to explain it to her. I don't... pretend to be their mom but the line is hard to find."

"You'll work it out," Abby reaches out and touches her hand gently, offering a comforting smile. "The biggest thing kids need is love and those three have so much they aren't going to know what to do with it. It'll be okay."

"Thanks mom," her phone begins to vibrate in her pocket and Clarke fishes it out, frowning down at the unknown number. "Would you guys mind excusing me for a second?"

Her parents both wave her away and Clarke swipes the screen to pick up the call, pressing the phone to her ear as she tries to skate quickly through the cluster of round tables filling the small, warm Italian restaurant.

"Hello?" The restaurant is too loud to hear what the person on the other end is saying and she wrestles her way around a few coat laden chairs. "Just give me a second, I'm somewhere loud."

She bursts out into the chilly street with a rush of cold air and quiet and lets out a relieved breath as a voice crackles down the phone.

"Hello? Miss Griffin?"

"Hi," She is slightly breathless. "Sorry about that, I had to step outside."

"Don't worry," The voice is male and oddly familiar, "this is Matthew Jacobs, from the California Institute for Medical Research. We met a few weeks ago, at a function held by your hopsital."

"Oh!" Clarke's eyes widen and she edges across the sidewalk to avoid the pedestrians, pressing herself back against the restaurant window. "Yes, hello Mr Jacobs. Great to talk to you again."

"You too Clarke," there is a rustle of papers in the background, "I'm sorry to contact you on your personal phone, I was given your details by your chief of medicine."

"No, that's okay," Clarke pulls one of her sweater sleeves down over her fingers in an attempt to keep warm. "What can I do for you Mr Jacobs?"

"This is slightly unorthodox, but I have a job opportunity for you."

Her jaw falls slack and it takes longer than she would care to admit to gather the fraying pieces of her mind into something workable enough to string together a coherent sentence. "But... I didn't apply for any jobs."

"No," Matthew sounds as if he is smiling, his voice calm and collected. "But we have been very impressed with your past work and recent achievements. We think you would be a perfect candidate."

"You want me to conduct research for you?" She feels as if her words are swimming just out of her reach, like she is grasping for each one hopelessly.

"Yes. You would find that the starting salary is quite reasonable. We would also offer you accommodation at a luxury apartment complex just outside of the city."

"Could I... would I still get to be a doctor?"

He pauses, seemingly startled by her question, before answering slowly. "I suppose you could continue with your training down here, at a local hospital, and work part time if you wanted to."

"Down here?" Clarke echoes and her stomach sinks with dread even as she asks, "where are you based? Not in San Francisco."

"Oh no," Matthew laughs deeply down the phone, "we were just in San Francisco for the weekend, it was a happy coincidence. We are based in San Diego."

" _ San Diego _ ?" Clarke's throat goes tight, her chest clenching painfully and she presses her hand back on the cool glass behind her, slippery with condensation. Chills run up her arms and over her shoulders. "But that's a like... eight hour drive."

"Seven and a half." Matthew corrects her, gently. A moment of silence passes as Clarke tries to gather herself before he takes pity on her. "This is a big decision. Why don't I leave it with you?"

"Y-Yes... yes, that would be excellent, thank you." She clears her throat, pushes herself off the window.

"Okay, we'll need to hear from you within ten days Clarke."

"Sure, yeah that'll be fine." She rubs at her jaw anxiously and bids her goodbyes, shoving the phone back into her pocket. Her heart feels full, swollen with both excitement and pain and she edges her way back through the restaurant with hunched shoulders, falling into her seat.

"What was it honey?" Abby eyes her curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"No," She sounds dazed even to her own ears. "It was the California Institute for Medical Research... they offered me a job."

"A job?" Abby's eyes widen with delight. "Darling that's amazing! I didn't even know you were applying."

"I didn't." She answers honestly, pushing back stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of her eyes. "They just... they met me at the gala and liked me, I guess."

"What did you say?" Abby asks, eagerly.

"I told them I'd get back to them, it's a big decision," Her fingers tighten around her fork and she lifts it to push at her pasta again. "I have... a lot here to leave behind."

Her mother falls quiet, humming and watching her with suddenly soft eyes. Instead it is her father who places his hand gently on hers, which is fisted into a ball to the left of her plate.

"Whatever you do, we'll be proud of you. It might be good to take some time to think."

Clarke nods, unable to tear her eyes away from her meal, but when she scoops up a forkful the pasta turns rubbery in her mouth, her appetite suddenly vanished.

\---

The sparkling Christmas lights strung around the cavernous display area in the mall are supposed to be jolly and festive, but they are cheap and the basically useless under the bright fluorescent strip lights that hang from the ceiling. The faux grass beneath their feet holds several suspicious stains and Clarke can smell the cigarette smoke lingering on the woman waiting behind them in line. She shifts uncomfortably to her other foot, leaning heavily on the stroller and peering down at the dozing baby inside.

They have been wandering around the mall most of the afternoon, buying presents and general necessities and the children had quickly become grumpy and tired, which had led to this impromptu trip to Santa's grotto.

It's kind of a dismal affair. The fake snow is just rolls of cotton wool draped over sad looking pine trees, there is a paper gingerbread man held up by a stick and two chipped plastic reindeers close to where Santa is sat on a red and white throne. Earlier a kid had tried to yank off his beard and the bored looking elf helper had had to dart forwards to prevent a disastrous unmasking.   

Her phone blinks awake, buzzing in her pocket and she digs it out to flick open the new email. It's from Matthew Jacobs, the first in what promises to be a series of tempting emails, filled with job details and benefits. She lets out a quiet sigh and looks up at the sound of a commotion behind her.

"You can't push in!

"I'm not," Lexa looks flustered, Miya tucking herself into her leg as she watches the altercation. "My family is just up ahead, we had to take a bathroom break."

"Yeah sure, likely story," the cigarette soaked mother behind her leans on her stroller and eyes Lexa with something close to contempt.

"Hey," Clarke reaches out to grab Lexa's hand, tugging her a few steps closer. "Come on, it'll be our turn soon."

"She can't push in!" The aggravated mother is getting louder and louder, drawing attention and Clarke can see Miya's lower lip trembling.

"She's  _ not _ !" Clarke rounds on her, a culmination of sleepless nights and secrets spilling out into her scowling face. The mother backs up a step, alarmed. "She's with me. Now  _ back off _ ."

She pulls on Lexa's hand again, fiercely enough to force her past the last waiting family and join her in the line. The other mother grumbles, but seems cowed in the face of Clarke's anger and Lexa offers her a weak smile.

"Thanks," She runs a hand over Miya's hair, smoothing it back and Clarke feels a rush of emotion, heady and strong, and abruptly drops Lexa's hand.

"No problem," She busies herself checking on Tris, fussing with her as she stirs and blinks open wide eyes.

"Okay," Lexa sounds uncertain and when Clarke dares to meet her eyes she sees that Lexa is frowning at her. "Well thanks for keeping our space."

"It's fine," She tries to sound as casual as she can, forcibly relaxing her face into a small smile. "Excited to meet Santa?"

"Yes!" Miya beams up at her, bouncing on the spot, "I wanted to ask him for all these things, but Aunty Lexa says I should be con- consd-" She falls quiet, struggling over her word.

"Considerate," Lexa supplies, patiently. "Because there are a lot of other boys and girls with a lot less than Miya."

"Exactly!" Miya nods firmly, "so I'm only going to ask him for a pony and a bike."

"A pony and a bike?" Clarke repeats, her eyebrows shooting up and she feels her phone buzz loudly in her pocket. "Seems a bit... excessive."

They shuffle forwards another place and Clarke pulls out her phone to ignore the incoming call from Mr Wissener, hearing Lexa say.

"But why do you need both? Can't you ride the pony to school?"

"No," Miya replies and when Clarke tears her eyes up from her phone she sees that the girl is looking at her aunt with an exasperated expression. "There are no pony racks at school Aunt Lexa. Anyway, Buttercrup has to come into class with me."

"Oh," Lexa's eyebrows shoot up and when she casts an amused glance at Clarke, Clarke manages a half smile. "So Buttercup already has a name? And an educational plan?"

"Of course," Miya hitches bunny further into her arms.

"Is there room on your table for Buttercup to sit?" Lexa is grinning, unable to help herself and Clarke huffs out a sigh when her phone buzzes again with a new email from Jacobs. Lexa's eyes flicker to her. "All okay?"

"Fine." Clarke waves her off and Lexa turns her attention reluctantly back to Miya, who is frowning.

"We'll kick out Tommy, no one likes him anyway."

Clarke phone buzzes again and she feels her teeth grind together.

"That's not very nice," Lexa observes as the family in front of them move forward to meet Santa. "I don't think Santa would like to hear you say that."

"Santa would understand," Miya insists stubbornly, "Tommy flicks his boogers at us."

Lexa's face scrunches up, disgusted, "wow, okay ew," she looks back at Clarke, but as she does Clarke's phone begins to ring again with Mr Wissener's number.

"Give me a second," Clarke bites out, frustrated, and steps away until she is pressed up against the limp winter wonderland display, "Hi Mr Wissener."

"Clarke!" His voice rattles through the speaker, gruff and loud. "I heard about your job offer from Jacobs!"

"Yeah, I can't really talk right now-"

He barrels through her, ignoring her protests. "It's an excellent opportunity, Jacobs says you've yet to give him an answer."

"Yeah," Clarke casts a glance back at where Lexa is unbuckling Tris from her stroller and settling her in Santa's lap. "I haven't decided yet."

"What's stopping you?" Wissener booms, "You would be a fool to turn this down Griffin!"

"I know," She can feel her anxiety spiralling in her chest, her throat tightening at his words, "I just- I have to go Mr Wissener. Sorry."

Lexa gives her a concerned glance out of the corner of her eye when Clarke reappears at her side. "Are you okay?" She asks, quietly and Clarke nods jerkily, burying her hands in her jacket pockets.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She fixes her eyes on the kids, who are babbling on to the Santa Clause on the chair in front of them.

"Are you sure?" Lexa shifts around, giving Clarke her full attention and Clarke feels a stab of panic, "You've been weird recently... distracted. Is it because of... us?"

"No," She snaps, too quickly and at Lexa's startled expression, rushes on. "Just leave it. It doesn't matter."

"It does," Lexa insists, her fingers clenching around the handle of the stroller. "It's upsetting you Clarke, of course it matters."

"Will you just forget about it?" Her shoulders curl in, hunching to make herself smaller in the face of Lexa's relentless questions.

"No! I want to help you Clarke," Lexa's fingers curl around her arm, squeezing gently and Clarke almost jolts away. "Tell me what's going on."

" _ Nothing _ ."

"Has something happened? Is it your parents? Or one of your friends? Are you hurt?"

"God there's nothing  _ wrong _ ," She rips herself out of Lexa's grip, taking a stumbling step away and Lexa's eyes widen, alarmed and hurt. "I got a  _ job offer _ okay, and it's in San Diego and that's really far away and I don't know what to tell them." She is breathing heavily, cheeks flushed and a moment of quiet passes between the two of them before Lexa asks, very softly.

"You got a promotion? In San Diego?"

"Yeah." Her voice is limp, lifeless and monotone and she lets out a shuddering sigh, barely able to meet Lexa's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" There is a faint tremble in Lexa's voice.

"Because you're thinking about... us." Something between fury and fear is quivering in her chest and she has to blink rapidly to push away the tears gathering threateningly in her eyes. "I couldn't let it affect your decision."

"Clarke," Lexa turns to look at her, pale but earnest, "You can't let me stand in your way. If this is a good job you should take it."

"It's not-  _ god _ ," She scrubs the heels of her hands against her eyes furiously, her voice breaking over her words. "This isn't just about you okay, I  _ knew _ you would do this! It's why I didn't tell you!"

"Moms," The elf appears at Lexa's side, rosy cheeks a jarring contrast to his thick eyeliner. "Time for a picture."

"Oh," Lexa fumbles for her phone and Clarke takes a shaking step away. "What are you-"

"I'm... I'm going to go for a walk." The tremor is ricocheting through her body like the aftershocks of an earthquake and she feels as if she is barely staying together.

"But Clarke," Lexa makes to follow her, but seems to think better of it. "We drove here together."

"I-I'll walk," Her legs tremble beneath her and when she turns away, Lexa's confused, hurt eyes watching, it feels as if her heart is cracking in her chest.

\---

She shoots up from the couch the second she hears the keys in the door. Miya raises her head from where she's cuddled up with Comet on the floor, but Lexa just urges them both back to their nap in front of the TV, too fraught to complain about the fur Comet is likely to be shedding over the cushions they're lying on. Quietly, she slips from the room, pulling the door shut with a slight click and turning to find Clarke paused in the doorway to her bedroom, looking at Lexa with pink cheeks. Her hair is slung with clinging raindrops from the heavy fog outside and she is heartbreakingly tentative, lingering half in the hallway and watching Lexa approach.

"I'm glad you're home safe." Lexa says at last and Clarke shrugs slightly, eyes flickering away.

"You didn't have to worry."

"I always do though," Lexa tries for a small smile, but Clarke's face falls.

"Yeah, I know," She turns and disappears into her room and Lexa agonises for a moment before following her.

"I'm sorry," She tries, hesitating in the doorway to watch as Clarke strips off her coat and throws it across the bed, tugging her beanie from her head, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I was mean," Clarke shakes her head, unable to meet Lexa's gaze and sinks down onto the end of her bed, rubbing her jaw. "I'm sorry."

"I shouldn't have pushed, it wasn't my business," Lexa shrugs helplessly, edging into the room and settling next to Clarke, several inches away.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Clarke's eyes flicker up to look at her, fingers tugging the long sleeves of her sweater down over her hands.

"I understand," A moment of quiet passes between them, broken only by the muffled sounds of the TV in the living room, before Lexa heaves in a silently shaking breath and says, as steadily as she can. "You should take the job."

Clarke's eyes dart back to her again, fixing on her face and her fingers still. "Do you mean that?"

Lexa nods, swallowing heavily and she's proud that her voice doesn't break when she speaks. "You're the best doctor I know Clarke."

"But..." Clarke's expression twists with indecision, "I can't leave you and the kids... my friends."

Lexa presses her lips together, gathering her strength. Her fingertips dig into the comforter below her, grounding herself, and she hopes that there is no tremor to her words. "You'll make new friends. And you shouldn't stay for me and the kids... nothing is going to happen between us."

Clarke blinks, lips parting in surprise and hurt dashes itself across her expression, bewilderment lining every crease in her skin. "But... I mean I know what you said but... we kissed. Twice."

"That didn't mean anything." She is stoic and firm, pulling in breath as evenly as she can and watching Clarke with a steady gaze, though she can feel her heart revolting in her chest, pain lancing through every nerve in her body. She stands before she can crack and uses the movement to cover her words. "We're just friends, Clarke."

"Oh," Clarke deflates, her shoulders curl and she can't meet Lexa's gaze, swallowing rapidly before she continues, "Oh. Okay."

"I'm sorry," She can't help but reach out to touch at Clarke's shoulder, running her fingers across it for just a moment before she pulls away. "You're a dear friend Clarke. I'll miss you, but I think you should consider the job."

"Okay," Clarke sounds utterly small, her voice soft and meek and Lexa has to avert her gaze to stop from crumbling right in front of her. "I'll do it then."

"Okay." She turns and edges towards the door. Her fingers curl around the handle and she swings it open, only to pause and glance back at the girl still sat on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Clarke?"

The blonde looks up at her and Lexa tries to ignore the way her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears. "Yeah?" Her voice wavers, and with it Lexa's resolve.

"You really are a great doctor," She knows that there's a crack of tears in her throat, but ignores it, "you deserve this."

"Thanks." Clarke's tiny voice almost shatters her and she turns on her heel before she can question it, pulling the door shut behind her.

She makes it three steps down the hallway before she has to pause, her chest is heaving so heavily with choked sobs. Her eyes are almost blinded by tears, throat tight around the sounds and when her legs tremble beneath her she reaches out to steady herself against the wall, sucking in a few deep breaths, head hanging. A broken wail sounds from upstairs, tearing her from her own misery and she heaves in a long, shuddering breath before straightening her shoulders and starting upstairs.

Tris is crying in her crib, sat up with cheeks so red and scrunched up that it almost looks painful and Lexa bends to scoop her into her arms, wrapping her in the softest blanket and cradling her warm, heavy weight against her shoulder. Tris snuggles into the crook of her neck and her wails turn into sniffling, sobbing hiccoughs as Lexa bounces her.

"I know baby, I know." She coos soothingly into the quiet room and presses her cheek against the baby's head, squeezing her eyes shut. A few tears trail over her cheeks and land in Tris's soft, downy hair.

\---

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! You guys are honestly incredible, I love you all. Sorry this is a little later than usual, university kicked my ass last week with thesis deadlines and portfolio deadlines. Ugh. Thank god that's over for Christmas. Please let me know what you think!


	9. December II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your comments last chapter, I'm still getting round the answering them all but mark my words I will!

The suitcases feel a thousand times heavier than they are and she lets her carry on fall to her feet at the bottom of the stairs, rolling her shoulder in its wake. Her other bag is lent up against the stairs, wintery light pours in through the frosted window in the front door, casting the hallway in a dim, white light. Rain patters against the windows, soft and steady and Clarke begins to pull on her coat as she surveys the scene in front of her.

Miya is sat on the stairs, her knees drawn up close to her chin as she peers through the banisters at her. Her fingers are clutching at her knees and bunny sits next to her limply. Aden is leaning behind her, watching Clarke through dull eyes as she collects her things in the hallway. Neither of them speak and Clarke feels their silence heavily around her shoulders.

"Guys," She speaks awkwardly, uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on her, "I'm coming back, I promise."

Aden hums quietly in the back of his throat, but his expression doesn't change. Miya edges up to her feet, her lower lip trembling.

"Really?" She asks, softly.

"I'm only going for a week or so, so they can show me around the facility," Miya inches down the stairs, slipping closer and closer at every word.

"Then you're going to go back later, " Aden puts in from the shadows and Clarke's jaw clenches.

She considers arguing with him, but one glance at his quietly disappointed face changes her mind. "Yeah," She admits reluctantly and Miya pauses at the bottom of the stairs, her lower lip trembling. "If I like it I'll go and work there full time."

"Why?" Miya has asked her this so many times in the past week that Clarke is beginning to lose count and she sighs, beckoning Miya closer.

"They've offered me a very good job Miya," She squats down when the little girl reaches her, "I have to think about my future."

"What about us?" Miya's voice is trembling, "don't you want to be in our family any more?"

"Of course I do," Her heart clenches at Miya's words and she pulls the girl into her side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as little hands clutch at her shoulders. "I love you guys," Her eyes dart up to look at her brother, who gives her a weak, half smile.

"You're coming back?" Miya says again, tightening her grip. "Promise?"

"I already said I would come back Miya." Footsteps in the kitchen doorway draw her eyes and she twists to see Lexa stood at the end of the hallway, holding a sobbing Tris on her hip.

"Come on Miya," Lexa crosses the space between them in a few quick steps and Clarke feels a twinge at the sight of her, dark jeans, pale striped shirt and thickly knitted sweater, hair braided neatly down her back. She looks immensely neat and calm in comparison to Clarke's Ugg boots and knotted hair. "Clarke's cab will be here any moment."

Lexa reaches out and Miya reluctantly draws back. Clarke eases up to her feet and takes Tris into her arms, though the baby continues to cry pitifully, reddened face and hoarse voice betraying how long her tantrum has been going on.

"Hi baby," She rocks the toddler in her arms and Tris continues to sniffle, tugging at her clothes and burrowing into her skin. "It's okay, don't cry." She gives Lexa an anxious look over her shoulder, "is she okay?"

"She'll be fine," Lexa holds out her hands and Clarke reluctantly gives Tris up, letting Lexa cradle her on her hip. "All packed?" Lexa asks, brightly and Clarke surveys her carry on and suitcase bleakly.

"I guess."

"Got your tickets? Passport?"

"Yeah, all fine. Oh-" Her face falls, "I don't think I have my..."

"Phone charger?" Lexa quirks a small smile and, as if by magic, produces her charger from her pocket. "It was in the kitchen."

"Thank you Lex." She stuffs the charger into her bag and a horn from outside tugs their gazes to the door, their heads turning like marionettes on a string. "That'll be my cab." She pulls open the door and waves at the driver to wait and then turns back to her little family, huddled and miserable in the hallway. "I guess, this is goodbye?"

Aden edges past his sister to give Clarke a quick hug, though his grip is clinging. "Thanks for everything Clarke."

"I'm coming back..." She trails off as he disappears back up the stairs and Lexa shakes her head after him, shrugging at her. Clarke reaches out and takes one of Tris's hands in hers, placing a tiny kiss to it. "Bye sweetie, hopefully you've stopped crying by the time I come back."

Lexa laughs softly, smiling tenderly when Clarke looks up at her. "She will," She promises and opens up her arm to give Clarke a hug. Clarke hesitates for a moment, frozen with uncertainty but when Lexa's arm snakes around her shoulders and holds tight, she allows herself to curl her arms around Lexa's waist and press her cheek against hers. "Travel safe," Lexa murmurs into her skin and Clarke bites back the tears welling in her throat.

"Thanks," She manages, drawing away before she can do something stupid like kiss her. "See you soon."

"Clarke," A little hand tugs at hers and Clarke bends to collect Miya into her arms, squeezing her tightly.

"Bye kiddo," She sets Miya carefully back to the floor, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Take Mr. Bunny." Miya holds out her toy pleadingly and Clarke's eyes widen, darting to Lexa before looking back to the girl.

"I-I don't know if I should..."

"Please," Miya presses the soft toy into her hands. "He'll look after you. But you have to come back with him."

"Can you sleep without him, Mi?" Lexa asks, very gently and the way Miya's chin tilts up stubbornly is so familiar that Clarke's breath catches in her throat.

"I'll be fine. I'm a big girl."

"Okay," Clarke relents, accepting Mr. Bunny into her arms. "I'll take him and I promise I'll bring him back, you believe me yeah?"

Miya nods, solemnly and the cab honks behind them again.

"I should go," Clarke lets out a soft sigh, loathe to leave them, but Lexa curls an arm around Miya's shoulders and Tris has calmed down enough to fall into a half doze against Lexa's shoulder. "I'll miss you guys."

"We'll miss you too," Lexa can't seem to dredge up a weak smile this time and Clarke swallows against her tight throat.

She gathers her bags and walks down the drive without looking back, but when the driver loads her luggage into the trunk she turns and sees that three figures haven't moved. She holds Miya's bunny in her arms all the way to the airport.

\---

"There we go," Lexa places Tris ever so gently into the crib, settling her between the rumpled blankets and soft toys. The baby stirs, twitching and twisting slightly but the sobs that have been trembling from her tongue for the past hour show no sign of reappearing and Lexa lets out a quiet sigh of relief when Tris stills peacefully.

The room is messy, cluttered with toys, but Lexa cannot bring herself to think about tidying it. Instead she slips through the darkened bedroom, loathe to disturb the sleeping girl in the corner, and shuts the door softly behind her. The house is quiet for the first time all night. It's past nine and she feels drained with the stresses of the evening, risking a quick glance at Aden's dark bedroom.

Her own room is blissfully peaceful. She sinks onto the bed and casts a wistful glance at her once steaming tea, now stone cold on her bedside table, and resists the urge to just fall back into the sheets and sleep for the rest of the week. As much as she wishes she could deny it, Clarke's absence has been keenly felt in the past two days. It's odd to come home to a dark house, to have to pick the kids up from daycare again, instead of finding them happily in their own rooms, Clarke lounging on the couch watching crappy reality TV. Everyone is unsettled by her loss; Aden is withdrawn and moody, Miya is whiney and petulant and Tris has barely stopped crying in the past two days. Lexa feels Clarke's absence like a pit of dread in her stomach, weighing her down throughout the day and it's only now, when she has a moment to breathe, that that pit turns to lead, heavy and poisonous.

Her phone startles into life behind her and she gropes blindly for it, running a hand over bleary eyes when she says, through a yawn. "Hello?"

"A prisoner from the California Correctional-" She punches 1 before the automated message can finish and waits, impatiently, as the long click and whirrs sounds in her ear.

"Hey kiddo."

"Anya," A flush of relief slides through her body and she lets herself fall back against the bed, staring up at the patchy white ceiling. "I didn't know if you would be able to call back."

"It's the last few calls before curfew, I don't have too long," The sound of Anya's voice is enough to drain the tension from her shoulders, her headache slowing receding and the pit in her stomach lightening.

"Sorry about earlier," Lexa traces the pattern on the comforter under her fingers.

"Yeah," Anya chuckles down the phone, "what happened?"

"Comet got into the neighbour's garden," She purses her lips at the thought of chasing the disobedient puppy around the garden and corralling him into the house, covered in mud.

"Uh oh," Anya is still laughing. "All okay?"

"I owe the Matthews a new rabbit," Lexa admits, but can't bring herself to be irritated when Anya lets out a bellow of mirth.

"Oh Lex, you're enough entertainment to keep me going all week. You should have a sitcom."

"Shut up," she huffs, rolling her eyes and levering herself up again slowly. "How are you?"

"Just as fine as I was four hours ago. How're the kids?"

"They're... okay."

"Lexa," there's a warning note in Anya's voice and Lexa's brows crease as she reluctantly admits.

"They're struggling a bit."

"Because Clarke is gone?" Anya's voice isn't soft, but it's low and soothing, completely absent of judgement.

"Yeah," Lexa runs a hand over her forehead, sighing, "I guess they're just unsettled. It'll be fine in a few days. They'll have to get use to living without her, we all will."

"You don't know that she'll take the job," Anya counters pointedly and Lexa purses her lips again, tightly.

"She will." Her words are short and clipped, "she has to."

"Why?" Anya counters, stubbornly and Lexa sighs more loudly into the receiver, so that Anya can hear her irritation.

"Because it's a great job."

"Doesn't mean she'll definitely take it," Anya argues, smoothly, "Maybe she misses you as much as you miss her."

"I _don't_ miss her any more than I would any other friend," Lexa's voice is rising, gaining heat and Anya scoffs loudly.

"Oh come on Lex, who are you trying to fool?"

"I _don't_ have feelings for her Anya! I _can't_ , not with the kids around.

"Stop hiding behind my children," Anya demands, sharply. "They're much tougher than you give them credit for.”

“I’m not _hiding_ -” She’s cut off by movement in her peripheral and twists on the bed to see Miya’s leaning against the doorway. She has Walter, the bear Clarke gave her when they first met, clutched to her chest and is sniffling pitifully, her hair rumpled and pyjamas creased. “Hold on An,” She swings her feet over the bed sitting up and beckoning the little girl closer. “Miya, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Miya pads towards her, wiping the back of her hand against her eyes. Lexa collects her into her arms and settles the girl on her lap, letting her wind her arms around her waist and burrow into her neck, holding her close.

“Miya?” Anya’s voice comes through the phone, “what’s wrong?”

“Hold on,” Lexa runs a hand down her hair, soothing the girl’s sniffles. “Miya baby?”

“I had a nightmare,” Miya hiccoughs over her words.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here,” She feels her heart thud painfully and cradles the girl closer. “Want to talk to your mom? She’s on the phone.”

Miya perks up, nodding eagerly and taking Lexa’s phone in her small hands.  She clutches it to her head, still sniffling and says quietly. “Hi momma.”

Lexa can hear Anya talking but can’t make out what she’s saying, so she uses Miya’s distraction to reach over and grab the throw folded at the bottom of her bed, pulling it up to cradle them both.

Miya sniffs again and nods. “Yeah, a nightmare. No… just scary.”

Lexa runs a hand up and down her arm and listens to Anya’s soft, soothing tones.

Miya’s brows crinkle and she looks up at Lexa a little anxiously. “No, I have Walter.” Lexa freezes and cringes when she hears Anya’s moment of silence, then the buzz of her voice again. “I gave him to Clarke,” Miya rubs her thumb against her cheek. “So she would come back.”

Anya talks again and Miya nods, holding the phone back out in Lexa’s direction. “She wants to talk to you.” Even the five year old has the sense to look anxious and Lexa gulps, tongue flicking out to wet her lips as she takes the phone from Miya’s fingers.

“Hi.”

“Lexa,” Anya’s voice is quiet and deadly. “What possessed you to allow Miya to give Mr Bunny to Clarke.”

“She wanted to-”

“The point of parenting is that _you_ tell them what they want, understand?”

She gulps, “yes Anya.”

“So, just a quick lesson, when the kid is about to go through a big upheaval don’t let them give away the one thing they need to sleep.”

“Yeah… it maybe wasn’t the best decision.”

“You think?” She can hear the annoyance in Anya’s voice and then a slight clang of an alarm in the background. “Shit, that’s five minutes. I’ve got to go Lex, try to sort your shit out with Clarke, you know she must miss you too.” Lexa opens her mouth to argue, but Anya cuts her off, “no time now, hand me back to Miya.”

“Okay,” Lexa sighs, passing the phone back to the expectant five year old in her lap.

Miya leans her head against Lexa’s chest, her soft, warm weight comforting and Lexa runs a hand through her tangled hair as Miya talks with her mother.

“Bye momma, love you,” Miya’s thumb slides into her mouth and she lets Lexa delicately take the phone from her. She is quiet in Lexa’s lap, despondent and Lexa curls her arms around her.

“You doing okay Mi?” The girl nods, but doesn’t meet her eyes and Lexa sighs quietly, glancing at the paperwork waiting for her on her bedside table. “Do you want to sleep in here with me tonight?”

Miya nods again, sniffling and Lexa hums, lifting Miya out of her lap to place her in the middle of the big bed. As she changes into her pyjamas and switches off the overhead light, Miya wrigges under the comforter, watching her expectantly. She slides in next to the little girl, who shuffles up against her side, thumb still in her mouth, Walter tickling Lexa’s ribs where her shirt has ridden up.

\---

Clarke calls three days into her trip. The house is blessedly quiet, it’s way past everyone’s bedtimes- even Lexa should really be asleep- but she is stood in the kitchen sorting through packed lunches for Miya and Aden when her phone rumbles into life. Her fingers press against her eyes and she fights off the headache that’s been pounding in the back of her head all day as she scrabbles in her pocket.

“Hello?”

“Lex, hi, it’s me.”

Clarke’s voice is like a punch to the stomach and her eyes shoot open, reeling around the room as she sucks in a shocked gulp of air. “Clarke… hey.” She sounds breathless and shaky, her fingers clutching the edge of the kitchen table in an attempt to ground herself. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Clarke sounds soft and hesitant. “Sorry it’s so late.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Lexa hurries to reassure her. “Are you- I mean, is everything okay?”

“Yeah I just…” She hears Clarke swallow, hears her gather in a breath before continuing. “I wasn’t sure if I should call…”

“Of course!” Her answer is too eager, her voice too strained and Clarke is conspicuously silent on the other end of the line. “I mean… if you aren’t too busy, it’s nice to hear from you. How’s the facility?”

“It’s… great,” Clarke admits reluctantly, “Very swish. Very clean. Very white.”

Lexa lets out a soft, forced laugh. “They usually are.”

A moment of awkward silence stretches out between them.

“How’re the kids?” Clarke asks very suddenly and Lexa’s eyes flicker to the spot on the kitchen floor where Tris had thrown her food earlier that night during a tantrum, looks at the front door down the hall that Aden slides through when he comes home, without a greeting.

“They’re fine,” She says lamely, at last, and then adds. “They miss you.”

“I miss them too.” Clarke’s voice is thick and sad and a beat passes between them before she adds, quietly. “And you. I miss you.”

Lexa’s eyes squeeze shut again and she leans more heavily against the table, tears wrapped her throat in a chokehold. “I miss you too.” She admits at last.

The silence returns, stretching between them painfully and Lexa is the first one to break.

“I’m actually in bed, it’s late so I should really…”

“Yeah,” Clarke is quiet, her voice quivering. “Yeah, cool. Goodnight Lexa.”

“Goodnight Clarke.”

For a moment they both stay on the line, breathing quietly and unwilling to let the other go, before finally the line clicks and Lexa realises that Clarke has put the phone down. Her heart aches and a tear escapes the cork in her throat to slide down her cheek.

\---

“Hey Aden,” Lexa lingers in the doorway to the living room, an old cardboard box tucked under her arm. “Want to put up Christmas decorations?”

Aden turns to look at her from where he’s curled up on the chair in the corner with his Nintendo. His face is dull, expression uncaring and he shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”

Lexa feels a twinge of desperation. “Come on, you used to love Christmas.”

Aden just shrugs again, his shoulders hunching up when he turns back to his game and Lexa watches him for a few long moments, waiting to see if he’ll respond.

Eventually, when it’s obvious she’s not going to get anything else from him, she deflates. “I guess we can wait until Miya gets home.” She offers and Aden shrugs again, not looking up from the screen.

“Sure.”

She presses her lips together, watching him anxiously and goes to say something when he phone begins to ring in her pocket. Lexa lets out a quiet sigh, but fishes it out and flicks the green button. “What’s up Indra?” She turns her back on the living room, chewing on her lip.

“Lexa, I have excellent news.” Indra sounds slightly breathless, which is out of character and Lexa frowns, sliding the box onto the kitchen table. “Senator Kane is willing to meet with you tomorrow to discuss introducing the bill before Christmas.”

“What?” Her mouth drops open and she feels a swell of delight. “Oh my god, _what_? But we’ve been trying to get hold of him to introduce it before Christmas for months! What changed?”

“Apparently he read the personal appeal you sent him all those months ago and decided he was really committed.” She can tell that Indra is smiling, can feel her own lips lifted into a delighted grin. “He’s cleared his schedule tomorrow.”

“That’s- Indra this is _amazing_. Will he come to the office tomorrow? There’s so much to do!”

“Lexa- _Lexa_ ,” Indra cuts through her enthused diatribe. “He’s not in California, he lives in DC most of the year. You need to fly out there, preferably tonight because your first meeting is at 8:30 tomorrow morning. He’ll cover the expense, so don’t worry about that.”

Lexa feels her stomach drop, the smile sliding from her face. “But- what? Indra I can’t just pick up and leave, you know that. What about the kids?”

“Surely Clarke can take care of them?” Indra offers, plainly and Lexa lets out a huff of frustrated air.

“Clarke isn’t _here_! She’s away until next week.”

“Then surely there’s someone- a friend, a relative even who can help you?” Indra is sharp and unforgiving. “I would suggest that you figure out a solution Lexa because you aren’t going to get this opportunity again.”

She hangs up without preamble and Lexa stares down at her phone for a few seconds, gobsmacked. The shrill cry of the doorbell and Comet’s corresponding rattle of barks as he scampers past her to the door is enough to jerk her from her reverie and she shuffles down the hall to answer it, still dazed. Miya stands on the other side, all pink cheeked and the happiest Lexa has seen her in days, with the mother of the child whose house she’d been playing at stood behind her. Lexa steps back to let her run inside and manages to exchange pleasantries with the mother, though everything feels very far away. When the door finally swings shut and she is left again to face her problem, she startles when she sees that Miya is stood close by her, looking expectant and eager.

“Hey,” She gives a weak smile and ruffles Miya’s hair, the little girl trailing her into the kitchen. “Did you have a nice time with Lacey?”

“Yes!” Miya beams, staying close to her heels as she begins to move around the kitchen on autopilot, pulling a few things out to start making an early dinner. “We played horses and with her new kittens and had a pillow fight and guess what, guess what Aunty Lexa?”

“What?” She answers, distractedly, beginning to slice an onion.

“Lacey is having a slumber party for her birthday next week and she invited me!”

“A slumber party?” Lexa glances down at Miya, frowning, her hands frozen. “No Miya, you’re too little.”

“But Aunty Lexa,” Miya begins to whine, weedling, “all the other girls my age are going. I’m way old enough.”

“Well I don’t think you are, I’m sorry.” Lexa sighs, turning to face her properly and sees the tantrum begin to cloud her features. “You’ll be able to go to plenty of slumber parties when you’re a little older Miya, I promise.”

“But I don’t want to go when I’m older, I want to go _now_.” Miya stamps her foot, glowering at Lexa over cheeks still plump with baby fat. “It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa shakes her head, pressing her lips together, “But I’ve made my decision.”

“Momma would let me go!” Miya plays her trump card, her eyes welling with tears and reaches for Lexa’s phone, still on the table. “Ask her!” The phone tumbles from her tiny fingers in her rage and hurtles to the floor and Lexa curses, darting forwards to grab it.

The screen is shattered, a jagged line running through it and Miya looks momentarily guilty as Lexa stares down at it, before her expression hardens again.

“I want to go!”

Lexa snaps.

“You’re not going to that slumber party Miya. You’re too young and that’s final.”

“You can’t stop me!” Miya rails back and Lexa can see Aden peering down the hallway from the living room door to watch them argue.

“You’re not going Miya!” Her voice rises, “Now stop back chatting me or I’ll ground you.”

“I don’t care!” Miya turns on her heel, tears streaming down her little face. “You can’t do anything,” she pauses at the bottom of the stairs, “you’re not my momma!”

Little footsteps pound the steps as she runs up to her room and Lexa storms into the hallway after her. “You’re mother isn’t here, so I’m in charge like it or not!”

\---

Lexa makes several frantic calls to Octavia and Raven. She leaves them messages, half awkward and half pleading, she even goes as far as to call Titus and ask his voicemail if he could for once help her and look after the children for one measly night. Fortunately Octavia calls back halfway through and she hangs up the phone without further thought for her moment of madness. Octavia tells her to calm down, says that she and Lincoln will be around within the hour and Lexa is finally able to relax, rushing upstairs to pack while the lasagna cooks in the oven.

She is pulling the lasagne out of the oven when the doorbell chirps out. She’s planning to tell the kids about her trip over dinner, glances at the clock to furrow her brow. Peering over her shoulder from her place crouched over the hot oven, she calls out.

“Aden? Can you please get the door? It should be Octavia and Lincoln.”

She hears the shuffle of reluctant footsteps towards the door and hauls out the lasagne to push onto the heat proof mat on the counter.

“Aunt Lexa?” Aden’s voice comes from down the hall.

“Yeah, just tell them to come on in Aden!” She shouts as she rummages through the fridge for salad.

“I think you should come out here!” There is a waver of panic in his voice and Lexa’s fingers hesitate over the bag of lettuce. A shiver runs down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck stands on end.

“What is it Aden?” She pushes herself away from the fridge, takes a few staggering steps to the kitchen door and feels her stomach coil sickeningly at the sight of Titus in the doorway. Aden is standing in front of him, blocking him and Lexa clears the space in a few moments, urging Aden behind her body.

Her spine stiffens when her eyes wander past Titus’s narrowed eyes and land on the familiar figure behind him. Stomach rolling, her eyes swing back to Titus, blazing with fury.

“What is the meaning of this Titus?”

“You contacted _me_ Alexandria,” Titus is unnervingly calm and collected. “You seemed rather desperate, I didn’t expect such an icy reception.”

“It was a mistake to call you, and I definitely didn’t want _him_ here-” She rounds on the guy stood behind Titus, dark hair and stained checked shirt, watching her with an arrogant expression. “What are you doing here? I thought Anya made it clear that you were never to come near her kids again.”

“They’re _my_ kids to,” Grant snaps, before Titus holds up his hand to quiet him.

“I contacted Grant, I thought he may like to spend some time with his children.”

“We don’t _want him_ here,” Aden spits from behind her and though he puts on a brave face she can feel him trembling against the back of her leg.

“He’s right,” Lexa presses a hand against the door frame to physically block their path into the house, “I don’t know how the hell you two found each other but neither of you are wanted here.”

“I think you may not want to keep the children from their father Lexa,” Titus quirks an eyebrow, “it could make it very difficult to see them once Grant takes on full custody.”

“ _What?”_

There is a choked gasp from the stairs and Lexa turns to see Miya edging slowly closer to them, her wide eyes spinning from Grant to Lexa and back again and Lexa feels her stomach sink.

“Aunty Lexa…” Miya’s voice is trembling, caught on the sobs in her throat and she slides around the end of the stairs, slipping out of Lexa’s grasp when she tries to reach for her.

“Miya-” She starts, but Miya turns on her heel, tears streaming down her cheeks, and escapes into the kitchen, and she sees Titus try to push closer into the house from the corner of her eye and slams her other hand up to stop them. “You _stay out_! I will call the cops.”

“I’m trying to help you here Lexa,” Titus’s voice is as smooth as chocolate, sly and slippery, “you should stay on good terms with Grant.”

“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her heart racing in her chest.

“You want to work for a real firm, don’t you? The kids are the only thing keeping you here in California.”

“Plus they’re _mine_.” Grant adds, obnoxiously and Lexa rails against him.

“They are not _yours_ ! They stopped being yours the second you rose a hand to them.” She turns on Titus, “and I am _not_ letting them go just to work in some stupid fucking firm, give this _up_ Titus.”

“Well you may be relieved of them soon anyway,” Titus’s eyes flash angrily, “Grant will be making an official petition for custody.”

“Like _hell_ he will be,” Lexa rounds on him, “what’s he paying you to do this huh? It’s not enough that Anya is in prison because of you, you have to try to ruin their lives too? They’re just _kids_ Grant! You don’t care about them now, just like you never have before!”

Grant actually looks guilty for a moment, his eyes darting to Titus uncertainly and Lexa jumps on the sign of weakness.

“If you try to take these kids I will fight it, and I will _keep_ fighting it until you are so exhausted that you can barely get up in the morning and guess what?” She takes a threatening step forwards, “I’ll be there, I’ll always be there trying to get them back, until even _Tris_ is 18 and out of your reach. Because I love them and I would never give up on them, no matter what the cost.”

Grant takes a faltering step back and even Titus looks alarmed as a car pulls up next to the house and Lexa sees Octavia swing herself from the passenger seat.

“Lex! Something wrong here?” She marches up the drive and her glower is so ferocious that the two men flinch out of her way even before Lincoln shows himself.

“Octavia, thanks for coming so quickly,” She offers the girl a tight, grim smile. “I now have witnesses if you try to start anything unsavoury. I will take you both to court.”

“Man,” Grant’s eyes have widened upon seeing Lincoln’s towering figure approach them. “Fuck, you were always a crazy bitch…” He looks back to Titus, “I didn’t sign up for this shit. I’m out of here.”

He turns and begins a quick pace down the driveway, out onto the street. Titus looks after him, his expression falling with dismay, but by the time he looks back to Lexa it has hardened into anger.

“I will-” Titus begins, but she cuts through him.

“No.” Lexa edges out of the way to let Octavia and Lincoln slip into the house behind her. “Don’t come back here, if you come anywhere near me or any of the kids I swear I will file for a restraining order against you. I _swear_ Titus, if I never see you again it will be too fucking soon.” She slams the door in his face with a resounding thud, her chest heaving with infuriated breaths and a hand touches gently at her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Octavia is soft and kind, looking her over anxiously and when Lexa nods she lets her hand drop. “That was Titus right? We met him once at the park?”

“Yeah,” She rubs a hand over her forehead, trying to ease her tension headache. “Yeah that’s him.”

“He’s a piece of work,” Octavia spits, “what a dick, if he ever comes back let us know Lex, I have used to play softball in college and I still have the bat somewhere-”

Lincoln’s hand on her waist quiets her and she looks up to give her boyfriend a soft smile.

“If you need us we’ll be here,” Lincoln promises.

“Thank you,” Her smile is a little strained and awkward, “for everything, really. I don’t want to put you out-”

“Anya is my friend,” Lincoln interrupts her. “I promised her I’d look out for you guys.”

“And we _want_ to Lexa,” Octavia adds, earnestly and Lexa lets out a shaky breath, pressing down the flood of emotions that is swelling in her throat.

“Thanks guys,” She looks down to where Aden is lingering at her side, closer than he has been in days and touches at his hair briefly, guiding his eyes up to hers. “You were so brave Aden, thank you. I’m sorry you had to see him again.”

“I couldn’t let him near Miya,” Aden is shaking a little, but his voice is steady. “Not again, not after last time.”

“He won’t come near any of you ever again,” She promises, firmly. “And it’s not your fault, none of that was your fault Aden,” she crouches down to his height, takes his hands in hers. “You know that right? There was nothing you could have done.”

He nods, but he’s reluctant, she can tell and she sighs softly. “Let’s eat,” She puts a hand on his shoulder and guides them all towards the kitchen. “Miya!” She calls into the empty kitchen, peering in the dining room as everyone settles around the kitchen table. “Aden where has your sister gone?”

He shrugs and Lexa’s eyes narrow as she turns and walks back to the living room, calling out Miya’s name. She’s nowhere to be found and as she looks around upstairs she finds her stomach sinking darkly. Her voice becomes strained and frantic, her hands begin flinging open cupboard doors and by the time she appears on the landing Octavia and Aden are in the hallway, looking up at her with concern.

“What’s up Lexa?” Octavia frowns at her, “where’s Miya?”

“I-I don’t know,” She can hear her heart pounding in her ears as she staggers down the staircase. “I don’t know!” She repeats, her voice rising with panic. “Miya!” She rushes past them both into the kitchen and freezes when her eyes catch sight of Comet in the garden outside. A look to the side tells her that the backdoor is hanging open and she staggers outside, staring at the gap in the fence Comet is barking at, just small enough for a little girl to fit through.

\---

The evening has been a blur of unfamiliar faces, fraught phone calls and shaking fingers filling in forms. That’s all there seems to be, form after form after form. People pressing cups of tea into her hands, where they just sit until they turn stone cold. Police asking rounds of questions that all sound the same- _where did you last see her? What could have provoked such an action? Has she taken anything with her?_ Octavia sits next to her, a comforting hand on her shoulder and Aden curls up in the corner of the couch, pale and trembling. Tris wakes up and refuses to fall back to sleep, fussing and whining and whimpering. Lincoln and Raven are out driving the streets, just as the police promise they will do and Octavia takes out Lexa’s laptop and drafts up a missing person poster.

Eventually, at long past midnight, when Tris has finally been put to bed, the police clear out and Octavia guides her upstairs to her room, pocketing a memory stick.

“Get some sleep, I’m going to go to Walmart and print off 100 of these.”

“I should-” She tries to stand, her legs shaking, but Octavia pushes her gently back to the bed.

“You need to stay here with the kids,” Octavia tells her, gentle but firm. “I can deal with this.” Her eyes wander back to where Aden is asleep on Lexa’s bed. “They need you.”

“But I can’t expect you to-”

“ _Lexa_.” Octavia cuts her off with a look. “Stay here. I’ll be back in the morning,” She hesitates, then continues awkwardly. “Have you called Clarke yet?”

“You know I can’t,” Lexa stares down at her feet, voice soft and dull.

“ _Why not_?” Octavia is terse.

Her eyes roll up to look at Octavia and she tries to press down the tears hovering at the edge of her voice.

“She’s busy. I don’t want to disturb her!”

“Oh my- _fuck_ Lexa!” Octavia throws up her hands with frustration and run a hand through tangled hair, tugging on it anxiously. “Sometimes for someone so smart you can be really fucking stupid. Clarke would want to be here for this, okay?”

“I really appreciate all of your help O,” Lexa’s shoulders weigh heavily, “But I think you should go now.”

Octavia stares at her for a moment, speechless, before finally throwing her hands in the air. “Fine, _fine_. If you both want to be stupid that’s up to you. Get some sleep Lexa, I’ll be back in the morning.”

Lexa’s eyes stay fixed on the floor until she hears the front door shut and her chest heaves in one long, shuddering breath. Her fingers are trembling and the quiet feels like a thunder, pressing in on her from all sides. She almost wishes Tris would wake, if only to give her something to do, but instead she is left with restless hands and an aching sort of exhaustion shivering through her body.

Aden shifts behind her, his face creased into a frown and she reaches over to tuck the comforter more firmly around his shoulders. He looks almost young again, so small in his bed, almost like he did when she babysat him at only 16 years old, a tiny, tender little thing, quick to laugh and eager to learn. He would crawl into her lap and grab at the pages of her textbooks, staring at the pictures of old kings and generals in wonder. Now, he looks as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders and she feels the first tear escape down her cheeks before she even realises she’s crying.

Her mind can’t stop spinning to Miya, out alone in the rain that lashes down against the windows. The thought of what could happen to her is enough to snatch away Lexa’s breath, thrusting her into a panicked spiral. She wishes she could call Anya, even though the idea of spitting the words down the phone to her is enough to make her dry heave. She wishes there were someone- anyone- here she could talk to.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, reaching out to touch at Aden’s hair, her voice breaking over her tears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t better. I tried my best, I promise. It just wasn’t enough.” Her fingers tremble against his hair and she slides down onto the comforter next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks to soak the pillow beneath her head. “I should have protected you guys, should have been kinder. I should have been there the very first time, when he tried to hurt you.”

Her breath is getting caught in her throat again and this time she is too far gone to stop her panic attack before it hits her, sweat beading across her neck and back, her chest tightening painfully, breathing coming in short sharp gasps. Her vision swims, head spinning and she feels a flood of spine chilling fear, so strong it feels as if too hands have wrapped around her neck and are squeezing tightly. She fumbles for her phone, drags it from its place on the nightstand to shakingly unlock it, dialing the first number she can find.

“Hello?” The bleary voice answers after a few rings, heavy with sleep and Lexa can let out only a few panicked breaths, her eyes swimming with tears. “Hello?” The voice says again, a little more clearly. “Lexa? Is that you?”

“Clarke?” She manages to claw the word out, croaking and trembling.

“ _Lexa_?” Clarke sounds far more awake now, “What are you- it’s 1:45 in the morning?” Lexa can only struggle for breath and Clarke seems to suddenly click onto her panicked breathing. “What’s wrong? Lex- Lexa you sound as if you’re having a panic attack.” A few seconds of silence pass between them, though Lexa feels as if her world is becoming darker and tighter with every second, her breathing becoming ragged and half tearful in her frenzy.

“Okay,” Clarke seems to drag in her own steadying breath, before her voice becomes calm and firm. “Okay, I need you to listen to me carefully Lexa, is that alright? You’re going to be okay, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, just listen to my voice, okay?”

Lexa finds herself nodding, even though she knows that Clarke can’t see her.

“Your breathing is off the charts so I want to get control of that first, do you understand?” She pauses, but Lexa still can’t answer, “Try to take in a deep breath for me, as deep as you can alright?”

Lexa complies, fighting against her shuddering breaths to dig her fingers into the mattress, squeeze her eyes shut and draw in a tremoring breath.

“Okay now let it out,” Clarke tells her and she lets out the breath with a long sigh. “And again Lex, in for the count of four- _one, two, three, four_ \- and out again- _one, two, three, four_.”

They repeat the process until finally Lexa’s breath is back under her control. Her sweat coated back is beginning to make her shiver and she blinks, her vision clearing. She feels suddenly exhausted and delicate, falling back against the mattress as her tears begin to leak from her eyes again.

“Okay, Lex,” Clarke still sounds gentle, but firm. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I-I…” Her voice is weak, “I fucked up Clarke.”

There is a beat of silence before Clarke asks, uncertainly, “what do you mean?”

“I fucked up,” She insists, her voice breaking. “I’m not- god I’m no _mom_ Clarke. I’m not a mother! I can’t-”

“Hey, whoa,” Clarke interrupts her before she can spiral again, “whatever it is, I’m sure it was an accident and I’m sure it will be fine Lex.”

“No,” She trembles and stares at the back of Aden’s head through the dim light of the bedroom. “No. It won’t.”

“Why?” Clarke asks gently. “Why not?”

“Because Miya is _missing_.”

\---

Lexa sleeps fitfully, wakes in bursts to lunge for her phone, certain she’s missed a call from the police or Octavia or Raven, but each time the screen flashes empty. She sleeps in twenty minute intervals, dreams strange, watery dreams of Miya and Clarke and Anya. Sometimes they are so hazy she can’t even grasp what’s going on and sometimes Anya is in her bedroom, stood at the end of her bed screaming at her while Lexa fights to keep her eyes open and battles to get out of bed. This is why, when a figure slips into the room at 6am and she jerks awake, she thinks she must be dreaming. Clarke is dressed in an old sweater and sweatpants and she hushes her quietly when Lexa stares at her, mute. She urges Lexa back against the mattress, coaxes her to shift until she’s under the covers. In her arms is a slumbering Tris and Clarke places her down next to Lexa before sliding in on the other side of the baby.

“Clarke?” Her voice is rough with sleep, her eyes are bleary. “What are you doing here?”

“What _wouldn’t_ I be doing here, Lexa?” Clarke asks, but she is soft and caring, “there’s nowhere else I would be right now.”

“But… San Diego? The promotion?” Lexa is struggling to form sentences against her exhaustion.

“Not important,” Clarke tells her succinctly. “Now try to get some more sleep, please Lex.”

Lexa can only nod blearily before burrowing into the pillow again, falling into a deeper, more comfortable sleep.

\---

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little sad for Christmas Eve, but keep an eye on my account for a happy Christmas update tomorrow! Happy holidays <3


	10. December III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lateness guys! Christmas and a bad fever put me out of the running for a while. Thank you so much, there's an epilogue coming after this!

Clarke insists that she has a cup of coffee before they leave the house at 7am to start pinning up flyers. She doesn’t take no for an answer, presses the mug into her hands and watches her silently until she finishes it. Octavia leans back against the counter, cradling her own cup and looking about as tired as Lexa feels, the flyers stacked by her side. She’s agreed to stay and look after the kids while Clarke and Lexa search the dark streets. Lexa can’t stand sitting inside and waiting for another moment and her leg jiggles anxiously as she waits to leave.

After what feels like hours of Clarke staring at her critically over the rim of her coffee mug, the blonde finally pushes herself up from her chair. “Okay, let’s go.”

Lexa jumps to attention, scooping up a haphazard handful of the flyers Octavia had brought. She fixes Octavia with a stern look. “Let me know if _anything_ happens. Call me.”

“I will,” Octavia nods gravely and Lexa feels a pang of empathy at the dark circles under her eyes. She crosses the kitchen without even thinking about it, startling them all and puts a hand on Octavia’s shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thank you Octavia, for everything.”

Octavia’s hand snakes up to brush a touch over hers and Lexa pretends not to hear her voice quiver when she replies. “Any time Lexa, really.”

She steps back, a wavering smile on her face and turns before she can say anything she’ll regret. Clarke slips into her room and returns with a box of pins and Lexa grabs her car keys from the kitchen counter. They leave the house quietly, shoulders hunching against the thin rain misting the air around them and by the time they get to the car Lexa is already soaked and can see the tiny corkscrew curls escaping from Clarke’s ponytail.

“No.” A hand reaches out to stop the door when she tries to slide into the driver’s seat and she blinks in surprise, twisting to see Clarke’s stubborn expression.

“Clarke-”

“You’re in no state to drive,” Clarke interrupts her, snatching the car keys from her limp fingers.

“You’ve had just as much sleep as me,” Lexa argues, but Clarke won’t budge.

“You’re a wreck, Lexa.” She is blunt and no nonsense, pushing the door open a little to slide into the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive.”

She shuts the door unceremoniously in Lexa’s gaping face, leaving her to stare at her through the glass, getting increasingly damper in the rain, until she eventually gives in and settles into the passenger seat.

Neither of them speak as Clarke starts to car, a tense silence penning them both in and Lexa is almost at breaking point when Clarke tips over the edge.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?”

Lexa’s eyes cut to her, her taut jaw and anxious eyes, fingers stiff on the steering wheel. “I thought Octavia would have filled you in.”

“I haven’t really spoken to O, I wanted to get the full story from you.”

Lexa purses her lips, stares out of the window and tracks the raindrops that fracture the glass. “Grant turned up.”

“Grant?” Clarke glances over at her, eyes wide and startled. “What… _the_ Grant? The one you told me about?” Lexa nods grimly and Clarke lets out a long breath. “Fuck… why? What did he want?”

“To see the kids apparently.” Lexa can tell that her voice is stilted and rough. “Not that he’s ever cared before.”

“Why now then? What’s changed?” Clarke’s fingers twitch anxiously against the wheel, eyes scanning the road as they move slowly down the streets and a pregnant pause hangs between them.

“Titus.”

The car jolts when Clarke spins to look at her and Lexa reaches for the wheel, shouting out her alarm when the car behind them lets out a blast of its horn and overtakes. Clarke doesn’t even spare it a glance, her eyes torn between the road and Lexa, fury burning in her eyes.

“I should have _known_ it would be something to do with him! What the fuck did he do?”

“Clarke! Calm down, watch the road!”

Clarke drags in a few calming breaths, swallowing roughly and Lexa slowly eases away her fingers from around Clarke’s on the wheel, sliding back across the car to watch as she drives. The raindrops patter against the roof and the windows, soft and soothing and Lexa finally breaks the quiet to say.

“It’s my fault, I called him.”

Clarke’s eyes dart to hers, wide with surprise, but she takes a few seconds to consider her words before finally asking, her voice artificially steady. “Why?”

“Indra called me,” It feels like years ago now and she acknowledges absently that she should call Senator Kane and let him know she won’t be at the meeting. Indra will be furious. “Senator Kane wanted a meeting today in Washington, I needed someone to watch the kids. I was panicking, I called him by accident, left half of a rambling voicemail but clearly… he thought it would be a good idea to come over.” She drags in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if he meant well but… Miya and I had had an argument and when she saw Grant she just… bolted. I didn’t know she was gone until Titus had left. I should have checked… should have known.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Clarke’s fingers brush her knee and they both startle at the touch. Clarke tears her hand away, flushing slightly and hurries on. “I should have known it would be down to Titus.”

“He says Grant wants the kids back,” Lexa’s voice is so quiet she is surprised that Clarke hears it above the raindrops, but it’s clear by the way her fingers tighten and her jaw clenches that she does.

“He can’t have them.” She is a trembling livewire of rage, an open flame and Lexa feels warmed by her presence and certainty. “They would never let him.”

“I know I just… I’ll have to tell them that Miya ran away, it’ll look so bad. What if they do take them away?”

“They won’t. I won’t let them.” Clarke’s eyes flicker across to her, steely with determination. “You’re not losing them for _Titus_ . Why does he keep coming _back_?”

She pulls up carefully outside a bus stop, gathering the posters into her hands and Lexa follows her out on the sidewalk. They walk to the shelter in silence and Lexa winds off tape for Clarke to stick the posters up with. Her eyes are focused on her busy fingers when she answers, quietly.

“Titus has never believed in me, not really.”

Clarke hesitates, glances over with surprise and takes the tape Lexa passes her. When she speaks her voice is measured. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“He adopted us when we were pretty old,” Lexa gives a halfhearted shrug, tearing off another strip of tape and holding it out without lifting her eyes. “I was 12, Anya was 15… I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about this before.”

“You haven’t,” Clarke sticks up another poster.

“It’s weird, I don’t think about him much but he’s still always… there,” She finally plucks up the courage to meet Clarke’s eyes and is glad to find no pity there. Instead, Clarke places a hand on her shoulder and guides her back to the car, sliding in beside her and pulling out silently, waiting for Lexa to find the right words to explain herself. “Did you ever get rewards when you were a kid? For doing well at something?”

Clarke thinks for a moment, then nods. “My parents used to give me five dollars if I passed a test.”

“You don’t get that sort of stuff in the foster system,” Lexa tells her quietly, eyes fixed to the window again. “So I never really got used to it and when Titus came along… I wanted to please him so badly. I still had this idea of a perfect home, I still wanted that. Anya wasn’t as enthusiastic.”

Clarke hums softly but says nothing else and Lexa is glad because the words seem to be pouring out of her.

“I remember when she got expelled from boarding school,” Her lips quirk up at the thought, “Titus was so mad. I was in the junior school and I heard it from a classmate at recess. I snuck out, took the first bus all the way home and found her sitting on the couch eating ice cream out of the tub and watching cartoons.” She lets out a laugh, “she still had her uniform on. She just looked at me in the doorway, patted the couch and let me sit with her all afternoon. Later on I did my homework and she helped me with my math.

“Titus was furious when he came home. He sent me to my room, grounded me for a month for sneaking out and he and Anya screamed at each other. I was so mad, I thought he was being unfair to her. I even started packing a suitcase to go back to the home, but Anya came upstairs and knocked on my door. She told me we had to make the best of this, that Titus cared about me and I had potential.” She laughs, rubs at the back of her neck, suddenly self conscious.

“That’s why you always worry about what Titus thinks?” Clarke asks quietly. “Because Anya told you that?”

“Maybe,” Lexa shrugs half heartedly, “Maybe I wanted a dad, I’m not sure. But I always cared and I think deep down he cared about me too. That’s why he’s so angry I didn’t turn out how he wanted.”

“But the person you are is so wonderful Lexa.” Clarke’s voice wavers, “You shouldn’t let him make you doubt that.”

“I… I don’t. I know my life isn’t what I expected but I’m happy,” She smiles, picks at her leggings anxiously. “I love these kids and I love Anya and I love-” The words get caught in her throat and she turns away suddenly, cheek darkening.

“Let’s try here,” Clarke sounds stilted, her cheeks pink and Lexa has to take a moment to gather herself before following her out of the car and towards the playground.

She’s only a few steps behind Clarke when her phone startles into life in her pocket and she freezes, digging frantically for it. Her voice is breathless when she answers. “Hello?”

“A prisoner from California Correctional Facility is trying to contact you-” She tears the phone away from her ear, her voice catching in her throat and stares down at the phone in her hand like it’s a ticking bomb.

“What is it?” Clarke has paused, one hand on the wrought iron gate to the park and is looking at her anxiously.

“Anya,” She manages to breathe out the word, blood running icy cold in her veins. “Someone must have told her.”

“Probably the police,” Clarke hazards a guess, hesitating a few steps away from her. “Lexa it’s okay. Do you want me to talk to her?”

It’s tempting, she almost cracks and holds the phone out, but the thought of Anya stood at the other end of the line, trembling with fury and fear, stills her hand. “No,” Her voice wavers with uncertainty. “No, I should talk to her. You go look around.”

Clarke falters, staring at her for a moment as if she’s going to argue, but relents eventually and takes the tape out of her hand to disappear behind the hedge into the park. Lexa’s fingers tremble when she presses the button on her phone, her body coiling with fear and she cringes when she hears Anya’s voice.

“Lexa! Lexa tell me you’ve found her!”

“No… An I’m sorry,” Her voice shivers on the edge of tears and she wraps an arm around her waist, forcing them down and attempting to sound calm for her sister. “But we will.”

“What _happened_ ?” Anya sounds frantic and fearful, “Where has she _gone_ Lexa?”

“We’re searching everywhere, the police are looking and Raven and Lincoln and me-”

“Have you tried the park? Have you tried the school? God Lexa she’s been out _all night_! Anything could have happened to her!”

“I know,” Her voice breaks and she squeezes her eyes shut, clenching her free hand into a fist, nails biting at the soft skin of her palm. “I’m going to find her, I promise.”

“How could this have _happened_ Lex?” Anya is suddenly soft again, vulnerable and terrified and Lexa lies without thinking about it.”

“I took my eyes off her for a second, she was upset and went outside and then… I don’t know what happened.”

“God I can’t believe I’m stuck in here while my daughter is missing!” Anya sounds somewhere on the edge of furious tears.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, quavering over her own tears, “I’m so sorry Anya, I’m so _so_ -”

“Lex I’m not upset with you!” Anya interrupts her and she blinks, staring at the car as she tries to process her sister’s words.

“You’re not?”

“Why would I be?” Anya lets out a small bite of laughter, “I know how much you care about them Lexa, I know how careful you are. That’s why I asked you to look after them. That’s why I know this isn’t your fault.”

Lexa feels a shiver is tears overwhelm her and lets out a hiccoughing sob, rubbing at her eyes impatiently. “You should be,” She argues, “this is my fault, I should have _seen_ her-”

“Shut up Lex,” Anya sucks in a huge breath, “I know kids, I know they’re a handful. Go look for my daughter and please let me know when you find her.”

“I will, I’ll find her Anya.” The promise is shaky but her voice is steely.

“I’m counting on you Lex.”

\---

She sits on a swing set to wait for Lexa. The rain has eased into a faint misting in the air, the sky lightening with the sun until it’s a blanket of grey clouds. She pushes herself back and forth with the tip of her toes, the muddy water pooled beneath her soaking quickly through her shoe. In her hands the remaining posters of Miya curl at the edges in the damp air and Clarke stares down at them, tracing every line of Miya’s beaming face, toothy grin and dimples. Mr. Bunny is in the pocket of her coat, bundled up tight to protect him from the rain and she dips a hand in to worry at the silky material of his ear.

A figure draws into her peripheral vision and she turns to see Lexa approaching, her face drawn into a tight mask of worry. She goes to stand, but before she can regain her feet out of the muddy water, Lexa sinks onto the swing beside her, staring out  at where the empty playground sits, damp and cold.

Clarke lets the silence sit between them for a few minutes, her fingers still playing with the toy in her pocket, before she finally asks.

“What did Anya say?”

Lexa draws her eyes up to Clarke, blinking as if she had forgotten she was there. “She said to find Miya. She- she said it wasn’t my fault.”

“It _wasn’t_ ,” Clarke replies instantly, voice firm with her conviction.

“I’m sorry to bring you back here Clarke.” When she looks, Lexa’s head is hanging, shoulders sagging with despair. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“Shut up,” The anger in her voice surprises even her and Lexa’s eyes snap up to look at her, wide with surprise, “Just… shut up Lexa. I’m not taking that job.”

“What?” Lexa’s brows furrow, “But San Diego is an amazing opportunity, you can’t give it up for me.”

The laugh that Clarke lets out echoes around the otherwise silent playground and Lexa stares at her, confused and uncertain.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Clarke demands, turning to look at her properly. “This isn’t all about you! I wouldn’t give up an amazing job for some girl I’ve only known for a few months, no matter how much I liked her, _god_ Lexa,” She pushes herself to her feet, filled with restless energy and begins to pace. “You’re so far up your own ass sometimes! I don’t want the job because I don’t _like it_. I want to be a doctor, not a researcher, simple as that.”

“I-” Lexa stares at her, blinking, mouth gaping and Clarke feels uncertainty swirl in her gut as Lexa struggles to find her voice.

She fills the silence when it becomes unbearable. “Listen I get it if you don’t like me and… I’ll move out if you want me to but those kids are a part of my life now and I want to be there for them. I’m sure they’d want that too, and Anya.”

“I’d never try to keep you from the kids Clarke,” Lexa has paled, her eyes bewildered, “Of course I wouldn’t, I just… I never meant to make you think I thought you would…”

“Let’s just… get going,” Clarke runs a hand over her forehead, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “we need to find Miya, did Anya suggest anywhere she could be?”

“The school,” Lexa stands, but seems to shrink in on herself and Clarke presses down her regret.

\---

The air between them seems to buzz with tension and Lexa keeps her eyes firmly on the road, her hands clenched in her lap. The rain has finally stopped and the sun is fighting its way through the clouds, but Lexa can feel her exhaustion like a wave crashing down around her shoulders, threatening to pull her under. She wishes she could think of something to say, wishes someone was with them to ease the fraught atmosphere, but they are alone.

Clarke’s words echo through her head and she wishes she could curl her knees up to her chest to hold back the tide of dread building within her. Fury and confusion and the utterly crushing fear that Clarke could be _right_ , that she’s made this whole thing about herself when really… what is she to Clarke? A girl she liked, a girl she exchanged a few kisses with, not the love of her life. And really, what is Clarke to her?

She risks a glance at the blonde and startles away when Clarke’s eyes flicker to look back.

_What is Clarke to her?_

A friend first; the dearest and kindest friend she could have hoped for and then maybe… something more. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a beat of brightness every time Clarke laughed, a quiver of joy when she smiled, a tremble of euphoria when she touched her.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke’s voice breaks her from her reverie, quiet and sad. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, it was harsh.”

“But... “ Lexa swallows heavily, steels herself, “You were right. I was too hung up on… us.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t a factor,” Clarke puts in softly, “I’m just saying… it wasn’t everything.”

“No of course,” Lexa feels more idiotic the longer she speaks, her cheeks flushing with shame, “I should never have assumed that you’d base this decision on me. It’s nothing to do with me.”

Clarke casts her a glance that she can’t read, somewhere between desperation and sadness and she is grateful for the excuse to glance away and indicate the building up ahead.

“There it is, pull in here.”

Clarke obediently swings the car against the sidewalk and Lexa is out of her seat before she’s even put it into park. The gates are shut and locked and Lexa rushes up to them, peering through the fence gaps and rattling the chains.

“Miya!” She calls out, her voice echoing.

“Lexa!” Clarke’s voice comes from a few paces away and she spins, following the blonde’s gaze to the tiny figure clambering to her feet from her place huddled by the fence. Her skin is pale, her eyes red rimmed and her hair is tangled, but Miya is safe and staring at her, her arms wrapped around her small body.

“Miya…” Lexa staggers down the sidewalk, her feet stumbling in her haste and when she reaches her, Miya throws her arms up around Lexa’s body, squeezing her tightly. “Oh my god.” Her legs buckle beneath her and she falls to her knees, gathers Miya into her arms like she weighs nothing. Miya presses herself so closely that Lexa can feel the cold of her nose against the skin of her neck. The little girl sobs in her arms and Lexa can feel her own tears sliding down her nose and into Miya’s hair.

“Aunty Lexa,” She trembles, her voice hoarse from crying. “You came for me.”

“Of course we did darling, of course we did.” Her tearful eyes slide upwards and she sees Clarke a few steps away, her hand pressed to her lips as she tries to contain her sobs. Lexa gestures her closer and after a moment of hesitation Clarke does as she says, inching across the space between them. “Look Miya, look who’s here.” She urges Miya’s head out of the crook of her neck and sees the girl’s face contort with surprise and then delight.

“Clarke!” While one hand stays wrapped firmly around Lexa’s neck, Miya reaches out with the other to draw Clarke closer and Clarke sinks down to sit on the sidewalk with them, pulling her arm over MIya’s shoulders. “You came back!”

“I did and look who I brought.” Lexa can’t help but laugh when Clarke produces the crumpled bunny from her pocket.

Miya beams. “Mr. Bunny!” She takes him gratefully, cradles him in her arms like a baby.

“He missed you,” Clarke soothes back Miya’s hair from her forehead tenderly, wiping away her tears. “We all did.”

Lexa bundles Miya into her arms and carries her to the back seat of the car. She shrugs off her coat to wrap around the freezing little girl and clambers into the back seat next to her, letting Miya curl up in her lap, exhausted and cold. Clarke turns on the heaters without being asked and Lexa can’t help but tighten her hold on Miya, sighing softly against her hair when the little girl shifts in her lap. She catches Clarke brushing away her tears as she drives.

“Aunty Lexa?” Miya sounds exhausted beneath her and she hums quietly. “I’m sorry I ran away.” She is sombre and serious and Lexa feels her heart break a little.

“It’s okay darling, as long as you’re safe now.”

Big blue eyes turn to look at her pleadingly, “Please don’t send me away.”

“Away?” Lexa’s brows furrow, “away where baby? Why would I send you away?”

“Because I was naughty,” She replies miserably, burrowing into Lexa’s embrace again, “You were going to send me to live with him.”

“With…” Her stomach lurches, “ _no_ ! No baby, no, I would never do that. Will you look at me, darling?” When Miya’s tremulous gaze meets hers she is sure to be very clear. “I will _never_ send you back to him, do you understand? I never want you to see him again.”

Miya looks at her for a moment in silence, as if trying to judge whether she’s lying, but finally she gives a tiny nod and settles into Lexa’s embrace. Lexa thinks she is asleep when she pipes up again, voice bleary with sleepiness.

“Do you have to go again Clarke?”

Clarke’s eyes meet Lexa’s in the rearview mirror and in that moment Lexa is sure that Clarke can read every bit of her expression, her feelings laid bare and raw.

“No,” Clarke responds at last, her eyes not leaving Lexa’s. “No I’m staying right here Miya.”

\---

Both kids are still asleep when they finally arrive home. Miya sleeps in Lexa’s lap and she barely stirs when Lexa carries her into the house. She hesitates in the hallway and sends Clarke an uncertain glance.

“She needs to sleep,” She explains in a low voice, “but I don’t want to wake Aden yet and I want to be able to stay with her.”

She’s barely finished her sentence before Clarke walks to her door and holds it open in offering. Lexa gives her a soft smile and Clarke ushers her inside, draws back the comforter for her to ease Miya into place. Carefully, she helps Lexa pry off small shoes and socks and runs to the laundry room to fetch a clean set of pyjamas to change her into. The girl barely stirs as they wriggle her out of her sweater and vest and into soft, fluffy pyjamas.

Octavia is waiting with a slice of toast and jelly and a big glass of milk and she sets both on the bedside cabinet, pausing to smile fondly down at Miya’s sleeping form.

Lexa walks her to the door. “Thank you so much,” She doesn#t startle when Octavia pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms around the girl and squeezing tightly. “You’ve been amazing.”

“It’s okay,” Octavia gives her a small smile. “I’m just glad she’s safe at last. I’ll call off the cavalry, you go look after her.”

Clarke is gently rousing Miya when she returns. The little girl stirs, face scrunching unhappily and then sits up, casting about for Lexa until she finds her stood at the door. Clarke props up pillows behind them when Lexa slides in beside Miya and lets her clamber into her lap. They coax her into eating and drinking a few mouthfuls, but she is so tired that her eyes soon droop and she becomes a deadweight against Lexa’s front.

“I’m going to call the police and let them know, hopefully they can tell Anya.” Clarke stands from her spot perched at the edge of the bed, runs her hand over Miya’s hair before slipping from the room.

Lexa watches her go, staring at her until the door swings shut and lets out a soft, shuddering sigh. In her arms Miya stirs a little and Lexa repositions her, sliding her down beneath the comforter and curling up beside her to watch her sleep. She runs tender fingers over Miya’s cheek and says, softly.

“Don’t fall for pretty girls Miya. They’re a bad idea.”

She stays with Miya for another fifteen minutes, until she’s sure the child is sleeping heavily and then extracts herself carefully from the bed. The door ajar behind her, so that she can hear if there is a disturbance, Lexa almost walks straight into Clarke emerging from the kitchen.

“Oh sorry-”

“No that was-” Lexa pauses, catching Clarke’s arms and pulling her to a stop. Clarke has dark rings under her eyes and there are fresh tears spilling down her cheeks, which she hastily tries to wipe away with the sleeve of her sweater. “Clarke what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Clarke sniffs, laughing self consciously and stepping out of her grasp. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Please,” Lexa reaches out and tangles their fingers, tethering Clarke to her before she tries to escape. “Please tell me. I can’t bear to see you unhappy.”

Clarke stares at her, fresh tears welling in her eyes and she snorts a soft laugh, shaking her head in bewilderment. “God,” Her voice breaks over her words. “How can you even- sometimes you say shit like that and it’s so hard to remember that you don’t like me.”

“I don’t-” Lexa’s eyes crease, brows furrowing. “Of course I like you, what are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” Clarke echoes, jaw dropping. “I’m talking about those kisses didn’t mean anything and go to San Diego Clarke! That doesn’t exactly sound like you like me Lexa!”

Lexa flinches at her words but Clarke barrells on before she can respond.

“Anyway, that’s not even why I’m crying I just… I’m so happy we have her back.” Her voice goes soft and her eyes flicker to the bedroom door. “I don’t think I ever really thought about losing her,” She stumbles over her tears again, “and now it’s just… it’s all hitting me.”

“It’s okay,” She isn’t sure if her touch will be welcomed, but she runs her hand tentatively up Clarke’s arm, holding it out in offering. Thankfully, Clarke curls into her embrace with no reluctance, her face pressing against Lexa’s shoulder and Lexa’s arms wind around her, holding her close. She hushes soothingly in her ear, runs a hand up and down her back and confesses quietly. “I know I told you to go, but I couldn’t have done this without you Clarke.”

“You could,” Clarke pulls back, wiping at her cheeks again. “You’re an amazing mom Lexa.”

“No,” Lexa shakes her head, draws in a shuddering breath and meets cornflower eyes. “No… Anya told me I was hiding behind the kids with… y’know, me and you. And I promise I thought I was doing the right thing by protecting them… but I can see now that you’re needed here. You’re a part of this family.”

“Thank you,” Clarke sags against her, “I don’t know what I would have done if you told me to go.”

“Never,” Lexa promises softly, “and I know… I have no right but… I do like you Clarke. So much. And I understand if you don’t because I’ve behaved so badly and-”

“Aunty Lexa?” The hazy voice on the stairs cuts through her and they both startle apart, turning to stare up at Aden in surprise. “Did you find her?”

“Yes,” Lexa hopes he can’t tell how flustered she is. “She’s in Clarke’s room, go on in but don’t wake her up.”

As he skirts past her, she looks helplessly at Clarke. The blonde laughs, shaking her head and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear, knuckles brushing against her cheek. “Go,” Her voice is so soft it almost hurts. “Be a mom. I’ll still be here when you get a moment.”

\---

When Miya wakes almost an hour later Lexa is surrounded by children. Tris sits in her lap, sucking on a pacifier and playing with her wooden animals. Aden is lounging against the headboard in the crook of Lexa’s arm, watching some netflix Christmas movie on a low volume. Miya stirs, turns and sits up in bed, her hair messy and eyes blurry. She happily drinks the milk they’d brought her early that morning and snuggles into Lexa’s other side, watching the movie through drooping eyes. When the credits roll Lexa takes a deep breath and sits up a little.

“I need to talk to you guys for a minute.”

The kids stiffen, in the way that kids used to getting bad news do, and Lexa feels her heart clench as they twist to look at her, somber and anxious.

“It’s nothing bad,” She reassures them, touching at Aden’s cheek and Miya’s hair. Tris is still happily engaged in her lap, but she seems to sense something serious is going on and turns to look at them all, little brows creasing. “But I know that seeing Grant yesterday was upsetting so I need you both to know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I’m going to look after you. I promise.”

“You mean… we’re staying here? Always?” Miya pulls her thumb from her mouth to ask and Lexa nods, smiling gently.

“Until your mom comes home, and even after that I'll still be here for you..”

“Even if we’re bad?” Miya presses and Lexa ignores the way that Aden smirks from beside her.

“I’d rather you weren’t bad but I love you no matter what, do you understand?”

Miya nods, lips pulling into a smile and small arms wrap around Lexa’s side.

“We love you too Aunty Lexa.” Aden tells her, smiling sheepishly and she looks between them, her heart swelling with feeling.

“I know. We’re going to be okay.” She holds her arms out for them both to shuffle under, wraps her arms around them and lets their soft, warm weights ground her. “We’re family.”

“No matter what.” Miya puts in quietly and Lexa smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

“No matter what,” She agrees.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is everything you wanted, just one more chapter left! Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought! Big love guys.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't thank you guys enough for your amazing support on this story! Enjoy the final chapter!

_Epilogue_

“Okay, no! No Miya let Aunty Lexa measure out the flour!” Lexa grabs the bag of flour from the little girl’s hands before it can topple all over the floor, scooping it to safety. A soft giggle sounds from behind her and she finds Clarke watching them, Tris on her hip, and feels her body warm with joy at the sight of her. “What have you done to the baby Clarke?”

“What do you mean?” Clarke affects an innocent air, but can’t stop the grin spreading across her face. She adjusts Tris’s elf onesie with her free hand, “She looks festive.”

“Where did you even get that?” Lexa shakes her head fondly, lifting Miya up to stand on one of the kitchen chairs and sliding the flour artfully out of her reach when she goes to grab it.

“Early Christmas present from Raven and Octavia.” Clarke shrugs, weaving around the table to stand next to them. “What are you guys up to?”

“Baking Christmas cookies!” Miya claps her hands excitedly, watching as Lexa measures out the butter and adds it to the sugar in a big bowl.

“Cool,” Clarke enthuses, bouncing Tris when she fusses a little. “Can we help?”

“Of course,” Lexa smiles easily and hands Miya the bowl. Keeping the spoon out of arm’s reach for a moment, she looks at the little girl sternly. “Now Miya, where does the mixture stay?”

Miya pouts, but recites back. “In the bowl.”

“And where does it not go?”

“On the table.”

“Or?”

“In my tummy.”

“Okay,” Lexa relents the spoon and watches as Miya carefully begins stirring everything together.

“This is so cute,” Clarke settles into another chair, Tris in her lap and steals a chocolate chip from the bag on the table. “Shall we ice them?”

“Yes!” Miya pipes up, “with the rolly icing! In pink!”

“I don’t know,” Lexa eyes them both uncertainly, hands hesitating over the flour, “colouring that kind of icing is hard and messy.”

“Oh come on,” Clarke wheedles, “I’ll do it, keep everything very clean.”

Lexa looks at her for a moment, sceptical, but eventually caves to their pleading looks. “Okay, just don’t get food colouring everywhere.”

\---

“Clarke your hands are green!”

Clarke’s eyes dart up guiltily to where Aden is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at them all. There is green food colouring in the bowl, on the rolling pin and some scattering over the top of the kitchen counter and Lexa spins to look at her from where she’s been supervising Miya cutting out the cookies.

“Oh my god, Clarke!”

“It’ll come off!” She rushes to reassure her, cringing under Lexa’s glare, “And look how good it is!” She holds up a piece of green fondant icing and Lexa’s glare only intensifies.

“That colouring had better come off Griffin or I swear-” She brandishes her rolling pin threateningly and Aden laughs, skirting past them both to steal a piece of cookie dough from the bowl and pop it into his mouth.

“Aden, don’t eat it before it goes in,” Lexa scolds and Clarke glances at the boy, gives him an exaggerated wink before darting in to grab her own share of the cookie dough. “Clarke!” Lexa turns to her, mouth dropping open and Miya puts her hand in the bowl to scoop out a dollop of the dough and push it into her mouth.

She hums happily around the sticky morsel and Lexa spins, aghast.

“Miya! Not you too!”

While she’s distracted Aden goes in for another chunk and Clarke follows his lead. Lexa gapes helpless to stop them all at once.

“It’s good Aunty Lexa!” Aden grins at her.

“You’re meant to _cook it_ ,” Lexa insists and Clarke steals her spoon, offering a bite to Lexa.

“Come on Lex, have some.”

“You _stay away from me_ ,” Lexa darts away around the table and Clarke can’t help the laughter bubbling from her chest as she pursues her. “Clarke no!”

“Come _on_ , just a little bit!”

“Clarke your hands!” Lexa squawks in surprise when Clarke’s fingers wrap around her wrist and drag her back until their bodies collide with each other, breath warm.

“Oops,” She glances down to see the green smears she’s left on Lexa’s skin and grins guiltily.

A wicked smile settles over Lexa’s face and Clarke doesn’t even realise she’s moved before Lexa is grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it her way. She splutters, gasping for breath as a cloud of flour lifts into the air around her and Miya and Aden giggle madly. Her eyes meet Lexa’s, twinkling with delight and she smirks.

“Right, you’re asking for it.”

\---

Clean up takes them so long that they opt to order in pizza for dinner, with warm cookies for dessert. The pizza is laid out on plates in the kitchen and they each grab their share, settling onto the couch to watch a Christmas movie. Miya wriggles into Clarke’s lap the second she is done with her pizza and Lexa takes a sleeping Tris into her arms, standing quietly.

“I’m going to put her down,” She tells Clarke softly and Clarke gives her a nod, curling an arm around Miya.

“Holler if you need any help.”

Tris is a warm, solid weight in her arms and Lexa cradles the baby delicately, kisses the top of her sleeping head as she goes upstairs. She smells faintly of baking and baby powder, soft and familiar and when tiny fingers tug on her collar Lexa smiles. Tris peers blearily at her, confused and barely awake and Lexa hushes her softly, pushing open the door to her room with her foot.

“It’s okay baby,” She turns on the dim light by Miya’s bed, casting the room in a warm light and settles Tris onto the changing table. The baby wriggles as she extracts her from the elf onesie in favour of a soft, comfortable sleep one. She flails out her legs, making garbled, half words as she reaches for Lexa and Lexa struggles to button up her pyjamas.

“There we go,” She scoops Tris back into her arms when she’s done, but the baby is now wide awake, squirming and crying when Lexa tries to set her in her crib. She sits up and grabs at the bars, trying to pull herself up and landing with a thump on her butt. Her lower lip quivers, eyes filling, the sure sign of a tantrum and Lexa takes her back into her arms, soothing her with soft sounds.

She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, balances Tris in one arm and plucks a book from the wicker basket at her side. The picture book is filled with bright illustrations when she opens it and she kisses Tris’s forehead as the baby starts to suck on her fist, calming now that she’s in Lexa’s embrace.

“Let’s see if this will get you off to sleep.”

She reads in a soothing, quiet voice and Tris instantly stills at the sound of it, as she always does. Lexa is only halfway through the story when the door is pushed open and Clarke’s head appears around the doorway.

“Hey,” Clarke smiles at her, “You were taking a while, I thought I would check on you both.”

“We’re okay,” Lexa sighs, looking down at where Tris is stubbornly drooling on her fist, tiny eyes still cracked open. “She’s nearly asleep.”

“Someone must be excited for Christmas,” Clarke crosses the room towards them, a slant of light coming in from the open bedroom door. “Want me to try?”

“Sure,” Lexa gives Tris up easily and the baby curls happily into Clarke’s arms, head pillowed on her breasts.

Clarke rocks her steadily, the baby held so close that she is almost lost in Clarke’s embrace and it takes a moment for Lexa to realise that she is humming softly. It’s quiet and questionably tuneful, but Tris’s eyes droop and Lexa is left to watch in awe as Clarke soothes the baby to sleep. The light coming in from behind them illuminates her, her bowed head, hair a golden glow, face drawn into tender, loving lines and Lexa is left breathless at the sight.

Carefully Clarke lays her into her crib and Lexa finds her senses enough to stand and join them, looking down at the sleeping baby.

“You know,” Clarke whispers, “I think all signs of her being a musician are out of the window, she must be tone deaf.”

“Really?” Lexa is barely concentrating, unsure if she can face Clarke without betraying her overwhelming tenderness in her eyes, but is saved the risk by Clarke’s next words.

“No baby should be able to fall asleep to my singing.”

Lexa lets out a guffaw, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth to avoid waking the sleeping baby and Clarke giggles, slipping from the room.

Downstairs Miya clambers into Lexa’s arms, curling up to snuggle into the crook of her neck as the film rolls on in the background. Aden shuffles over to make room for Clarke and looks over at them both.

“You missed some of the movie,” He tells them, frowning and Clarke slings an arm around his shoulder.

“Sorry kiddo, your sister wanted to stay up and wait for Santa.”

Miya springs up from Lexa’s lap, twisting to peer at Clarke eagerly. “Can we stay up for Santa?”

“Now Miya,” Lexa gives her a stern look, “You know Santa won’t come if you stay up.”

Miya deflates and Lexa tickles her stomach until she giggles.

“Don’t you want your presents?” At her enthusiastic nod Lexa smiles at her. “Then you have to go to bed early.”

“But it’s so early!” Aden whines, leaning around Clarke, “Tris has only just gone to bed.”

“Don’t worry, you can watch the end of the movie but after that…” Lexa waggles a finger at him, “off to bed so Santa can come.”

\---

“We both have post graduate degrees, this should not be that hard.” Clarke stares at the instructions in the dim light, shining out through the kitchen window. They had left the house bundled up in coats and hats, but were now stripped down to their sweaters, the sleeves rolled up as they heaved around the metal poles.

“Unfortunately neither of them were in engineering.” Lexa manages a wry smile from where she is holding two bars together. “Any luck?”

“Do we have the E screws?” Clarke bends over the case of parts the swing set had come with. “They all look the _same_.”

“I think they were the long ones,” Lexa shifts adjusting her shoulders. “With the grey cap?”

“They all look like- oh! Here they are!” Clarke grabs the screws, darting closer to shove it into the slots that Lexa is holding together. “Okay I just have to…” She struggles with the screwdriver, battling to fit in into the top of the screw, and feels Lexa’s breathy laughter skating over her skin. “Don’t _laugh_.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lexa twists to muffle her laughter against her arm and her hair tickles Clarke’s cheek. “Do you need me to do it?”

“As if you’d be any better,” Clarke jibes playfully. “Got it!” She twists the screw until it’s in place. “Okay hold on, I have to do the next one… the two pieces don’t line up!”

“What do you mean?” Lexa twists around, peering over her shoulder at her. “How can they not match up, the first set did!”

“I don’t know!” Clarke pushes down on the upper bar, presses all of her weight down and the two holes come into line for a moment, “That’s it oh my god!”

“That’s _what_!” Lexa grunts with the effort of keeping the swing set standing, “Clarke what are you doing?”

“I’ve got them to line up!” Clarke shoves the screw into place, “Just hold it there for a second, give me just a sec…”

“ _Clarke_!”

“There,” The screw in place, she falls back, letting the swing set click into place. “You can probably let go now.”

Tentatively Lexa lets the swing set go, rushing out from beneath it and watching from a few wary paces away as the swing set stays upright. “Thank _god_ ,” She runs a hand over her forehead, goosebumps bursting out across her arms and neck as she takes a breath.

“These kids had better appreciate this,” Clarke grabs her coat, shrugging it on to protect from the cold.

“If they don’t Santa’s going to come back and take it away again,” Lexa remarks, darkly and Clarke casts her a sidelong glance

“But doesn’t that mean Santa will have to take it _apart_ again?”

“Santa can borrow Lincoln’s sledge hammer.”

\---

It takes them another hour to fully erect the swing set. They go inside shivering and Clarke promises to fix them tea while Lexa starts to arrange the presents beneath the Christmas tree. It takes several tries to haul the presents down from their spot at the top of her closet, but she eventually succeeds and Clarke finds her knelt beside the tree, neatly arranging packages.

“Looks good,” Clarke smiles at her from the doorway, two steaming mugs in her hands and Lexa glances back to see that she’s changed into her pyjamas, all white and grey and the softest material she’s ever seen.

She shakes herself from her trance when Clarke approaches and kneels down next to her, “Thanks, there’s actually a few from people I didn’t expect.”

“Oh yeah, like who?” Clarke passes over the mug, peering down at the sparkly parcels. “My parents tried to send more,” She rolls her eyes, “Those kids have them wrapped around their fingers.”

Lexa laughs quietly, sipping tentatively from her tea, “Raven, Octavia and Lincoln, the lady next door. Even Indra dropped something by.”

“Wow,” Clarke shakes her head, “Clearly it’s not just mom and dad then, they’ve worked their magic on the whole neighbourhood.”

“Seems like it,” Lexa agrees with a soft smile.

“I’m sure I never got this many presents when I was a kid,” Clarke grouches playfully, heaving herself up to flop on the couch, tucking up her legs and drawing the fleecy blanket down from the back to tuck around her.

“No, me neither,” Lexa agrees and joins her when Clarke holds the blanket open in invitation. “But they’re cute kids.”

“So cute,” Clarke agrees with an indulgent smile. “You did well there.”

“ _Anya_ did well there,” She corrects automatically and flushes when Clarke eyes her exasperatedly.

“You both did. These kids have changed a lot since I first met them you know, you should be proud.”

Lexa shrugs awkwardly, “They’re good kids… and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It’s Clarke’s turn to flush, her eyes dancing away, embarrassed and her tone is a little stilted when she speaks again. “This is the first holiday I’m spending away from home you know.”

“Really?” Lexa’s brows crease and her fingers tighten around the mug, “you could have gone you know, the kids would understand.”

“And miss Christmas with them?” Clarke raises an eyebrow, “No way.”

“Well,” Lexa hesitates for a moment, chewing on her lip before she asks, “what sort of traditions did you have at home? Maybe we can replicate them, make you feel more at home.”

“Not many,” Clarke shrugs, but a smile flickers onto her face as she thinks, “My dad always gets up really early and wakes everyone up because he’s so excited.”

“I don’t think we’re going to sleep past six, so no worries there.” Lexa laughs and Clarke nods her agreement.

“Six if we’re lucky. My mom cooks the dinner but my dad does the turkey, he likes to think he’s the chef but she stops it from burning _every year_ ,” She smiles fondly and Lexa feels her heart clench at the sight of it. “We wear our pyjamas all day, pick out and watch the Christmas television. Oh, and there’s always a game of Pictionary that ends in a squabble.”

“We have Pictionary,” Lexa offers hopefully and Clarke smirks.

“We can play, as long as you’re prepared to have your ass kicked.” At Lexa’s insulted gasp, she giggles and tucks her legs up tighter beneath her. “What about you? Any interesting family traditions I should know about?”

Lexa feels her stomach drop, tries to school her expression but it’s clear by the look on Clarke’s face that she fails.

“Lexa, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” Lexa reaches out to touch her knee softly before she can apologise too much. “I don’t mind, really. Um,” She gathers herself, “Christmas used to change depending on which home we were in but… Anya always left me a present at the end of my bed, tucked under the covers so that I’d have to dig around to find it. And when she got old enough she’d take me out for ice cream on Christmas Eve and then we’d come home and get into bed together and-” She swallows her words, cuts herself off abruptly and Clarke’s lips purse.

“What? I mean,” She flushes darkly, “you don’t have to tell me of course, I just-”

“No, it’s not- it’s not you Clarke really.” She rushes her reassure her, “it’s just-” She barks out a laugh, “It’s not the most cheerful of stories for Christmas Eve.”

“I don’t care,” Clarke tells her earnestly, “If you want to tell me, I want to hear it.”

“Okay,” Lexa heaves it a breath that shudders just slightly, “We used to, um… talk about our mom and dad. Talk about the Christmas we would be having if we were with them. Kind of… pray for them.”

“You’re religious?” Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise, “I didn’t-“

“I’m not, not really. But when your parents die you’re sort of… aware of spirituality and it feels nice to think there’s a way to… be close to them.”

“I can understand that,” Clarke is quiet and sombre. “If you want to do that… talk about your parents I mean, we can do that. I’m not saying I’m in any way a replacement for your sister but… I’m a willing ear if that’s what you want.”

Lexa stares at her for a few long moments. Her chest is tight with emotions, something between awe and sadness, and her throat feels stiff with the effort it takes to hold back her tears. Clarke’s eyes are wide and earnest and she watches Lexa in silence, waiting for her judgement with increasing anxiety until she finally opens her mouth, doubtless to apologise and Lexa’s words spill out in an effort to stop her.

“They were quite young.”

Clarke’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes widen even further, but she says nothing else, allowing the air to stretch out empty between them, for Lexa to fill with her stories.

“They… they were young.” She repeats, quietly and the words settle comfortably. “Anya remembers them better than me, she says they were fun. She says at Christmas we used to climb into their beds early in the morning, unwrap presents. They always got us matching pyjamas.” There’s a fond smile on her face, despite the sadness coiling in her heart. “I don’t remember much, just snippets really… but I remember opening presents with Anya, with my mom’s arm around me. I remember how she smelled and the colour of her hair.”

Tentative fingers wrap around hers and squeeze ever so slightly and caerulean stares back at her, soft and warm and so terrifyingly tender that Lexa thinks her heart might shatter.

“Anya tried to keep things going for me,” Lexa’s voice wavers a little, “Our first year in foster care we were with this old lady… she was okay but she could barely keep track of the kids she had before we arrived, let alone two more. Anya bought this tiny fake tree and we decorated it with paper and slept in the same bed that night. It became a tradition. Obviously when we grew up we stopped but…” She flushes and when she glances up at Clarke from beneath her eyelashes, sees that she’s smiling just slightly.

“I think it’s cute,” Clarke puts in softly and Lexa laughs awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wax lyrical about my childhood.”

“You’re not, Lexa-” Clarke’s fingers tighten around hers, “I _asked,_ I want to know.”

“I’m just-” Her words feel stuck in her throat. “I’m determined to give them the life I didn’t have, y’know. I’m not Anya but… I want to give them a home and a family and I want them to be _happy_.”

“They are.” Clarke sounds firm and serious. “You know they are.”

“I… think I’m starting to.” Lexa casts her a tentative smile, “with your help.”

“Whatever you need,” Clarke promises her quietly, reaching behind the couch cushions to pull out the remote. “Hey, do you want to watch the finale of Dancing with the Stars?”

Lexa groans softly, but nods and accepts Clarke’s feet when she wriggles them into her lap, laughing at her teasing.

“You love this show really, you don’t need to pretend,” She nudges at her thigh with her toes.

Lexa lets out a long groan, but draws Clarke’s feet further into her lap and meets Clarke’s smile with a grin of her own.

\---

They stay on the couch late into the night, their limbs tangled together in a warm pile. Clarke shifts slowly on the couch, until finally she is sandwiched up against her side, her head resting in Lexa’s lap as Lexa cards her fingers gently through her hair. Her eyes are drooping, her body feels heavy with drowsiness and she is fighting off sleep. The television burbles on in the background, but the reality show has long since ended and they’re watching the rerun of Full House episodes, neither of them really concentrating.

Clarke is watching through cracked eyes as Danny crashes DJ’s birthday party, when Lexa says, softly.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

Clarke’s eyes shoot open and she feels Lexa stiffen beneath her when she twists to look at her. “What?”

Lexa gapes down at her, “I-I thought you were asleep.”

“I’m not.” She states, uselessly, levering herself up to lean on her elbow and watch as Lexa’s cheeks heat. “I… what were you going to say? What did you mean?”

“Nothing!” She’s sure that if she weren’t half lying on Lexa she would be up and out of the door. “I wasn’t…”

“No Lexa.” She meets her eyes fiercely, pinning her with a look. “What did you mean? Tell me.”

“Clarke,” Lexa sounds agonised with indecision, her voice painfully uncertain.

“No. You have something to say. Say it.”

“I… I…” Lexa’s eyes squeeze shut as she gathers herself, “I lied to you. I’m sorry.”

“What did you lie about?” Clarke presses further.

“I told you I didn’t like you,” Lexa admits and Clarke can feel her trembling beneath her. “I… pushed you away and I’m sorry. If I hadn’t maybe…” Her eyes meet Clarke’s at last and there is a terrified truth in them. “Maybe we would… be something more than this.”

Clarke’s breath shivers from her lips, exhaling shakily. “It’s not too late.”

Lexa shakes her head even before Clarke is finished speaking. “I treated you like shit. You shouldn’t still want to be with me.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” She can’t help but reach up and cradle her cheek. “You were doing what you always do… trying to look after everyone else first, I can’t blame you for that.”

“So… you mean there might still be a chance?” The tentative hope in her eyes is almost too much for Clarke and she reels forwards without thinking about it to press their lips together. Lexa tastes of chocolate and the sweetness of her chapstick, her breath stuttering out of her in surprise before she melts into the touch. Clarke pulls abruptly back after a second, her eyes wide at her own audacity.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

But Lexa doesn’t let her finish, surging up to catch her lips back again, fingers tracing her cheek and along her arm and Clarke feels herself surrender gratefully.

\---

Lexa wakes up to small hands against her face and two excited voices. She is bleary, her head heavy and her neck stiff and there’s a warm weight pressed against her side. Her eyes peel open, fighting against the brightness of the overhead light, and immediately land on Clarke pillowed up against her, rubbing at her eyes as excitable children clamber over them both. The blanket is tangled up at the bottom of their legs, Miya has scrambled onto the couch, her stocking clung in her hands, and is nudging Clarke’s cheek in an effort to rouse her. Aden stands next to them, bouncing on his feet, clearly trying to seem less excited than he is.

“Clarke! Aunty Lexa! Look, look, Santa Claus has come!” Miya tugs on Clarke’s shoulder until the blonde is forced, groaning, to lever herself up slightly and give Lexa a grumpy look, hair dishevelled.

“Control your kids, Woods.”

She throws her arm over her eyes to protect herself from the light streaming in through the windows, watery and weak and her words are muffled when she replies. “Before dawn they’re your kids.”

She feels Clarke shake with laughter beneath her, her heart skipping when Clarke’s fingers brush against her bare hip where her shirt has ridden up in her sleep. Her breath is stolen from her when Clarke hits her stomach and she tears her arm away, glaring at her in mock outrage.

“You’re a _dork_.” Clarke informs her with a roll of her eyes and Miya slides back to the floor, tugging on them both excitedly.

“Let’s _go_.”

“Okay sweetie,” Clarke pulls herself up and Lexa tries not to miss her warmth. “Why don’t you tell us what Santa brought you in your stocking huh?”

“I’ll go get Tris,” Lexa reluctantly swings her legs out from the couch and Clarke, sliding to the floor next to Miya, gives her a soft, tender smile.

“Hurry back.”

\---

The Christmas decorations at the prison are almost more depressing than the Thanksgiving ones had been. A cut out of a Christmas tree sits in the corner of the room, the two windows are outlined with scrawny tinsel and there are a few stickers of gifts and candy canes on the walls, tiny and pathetic. The kids barely notice the lack of festivities though, so amazed are they at seeing their mother. The guards most be feeling the Christmas spirit, or else their coffee cups are literally filled with Christmas spirits because they turn a blind eye to Anya holding both Tris and Miya in her lap and let Clarke and Lexa bring in presents for each of the children “from Anya”.

Clarke watches them from her spot at the door, arms loaded with candy from the vending machines. Anya is laughing at something Miya has said, her face soft and kind and Tris is patting at her cheek, trying to get her attention. Miya glows under the attention from her mother and Aden has shuffled his chair around the table so that he can sit next to her. Even Lexa is leaning over the table, sat at the edge of her seat and smiling widely at her sister. Anya truly brings them together and they orbit around her accordingly.

The candy bars are beginning to slip in her hands and the guard is starting to look at her strangely, so she makes her way back across the room to unload the candy bars onto the table and slide into her vacated seat.

“Here we go, a selection.” She waves a hand over the candy bars and Miya and Aden almost fall off their seats in their attempt to grab what they want.

“Clarke,” Lexa cuts her a slightly disapproving look, “I told you to just get a few, we have dinner later.”

“Hey,” Clarke nudges her softly, “Lighten up, it’s Christmas.”

“They’ll finish dinner, won’t you guys?” Anya snags a Snickers off the table and the kids nod eagerly around their candy bars. “So, no Titus for dinner?”

Lexa’s expression immediately hardens, brows furrowing. “No. Never again.”

“You should get a restraining order.”

“Not yet,” Lexa’s grim answer makes them both crack a smile and Clarke nudges her softly, shifting her chair a little closer in solidarity.

“You won’t have to deal with him alone again.”

Anya’s eyes dart up from where she was readjusting a squirming Tris in her arms and she looks at her with interest. “You’re staying then?” Her voice is flat, betraying no emotion but Clarke thinks she knows her well enough to recognise the twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“Yes,” She answers firmly and Lexa ducks her head, her hair swinging in front of her face to partially hide the pleased smile on her face. “San Diego wasn’t for me. Everything I want is right here.”

“Everything?” Anya’s eyebrow shoots up and she casts a curious glance at Lexa.

“Everything.” Clarke reaches out to take Lexa’s hand daringly, their fingers pressing together and when Lexa’s eyes widen in surprise, hand twitching as if to pull away, she only tightens her grip.

They decide to go an hour or so later, when the kids begin to get fidgety thinking about the presents still waiting for them under the tree. They each give their mom a hug in turn and as Lexa is ushering the kids back towards the door, Clarke steps forward to take Tris from Anya’s arms.

“Hey,” Anya’s quiet entreaty makes her pause and she hesitates as Tris settles into her grip. Anya’s eyes are unreadable but she thinks there is a flicker of concern there. “Are you and Lexa finally going to do this?”

“I-” Clarke falters, her eyes darting back to Lexa. “I hope so. I want to.”

“Okay,” The look Anya levels her with is reluctantly respectful and she holds out a hand for Clarke to shake. Her fingers tighten momentarily and when Clarke looks again, her face is set into grim lines. “You hurt my baby sister and I’ll skin you alive. Don’t doubt me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She hopes she sounds more confident than she is.

\---

The kids leave trails of wrapping paper around the living room, shredded into tiny pieces as they go and Comet bounces excitedly between all of them, sensing their joviality and rejoicing in the fact that they’ve come home to him again. Clarke makes them all hot chocolate, tipping something a little extra into both hers and Lexa’s and while Lexa gives her a disapproving look, she doesn’t complain and her cheeks are soon flushed happily.

There’s a Christmas movie burbling on in the background, Tris is beginning to get sleepy again when Clarke produces several soft packages from beneath the tree and offers them out to each of them.

“Clarke,” Lexa hesitates, running her fingers over the paper, “You didn’t have to get us something.”

“I know, I wanted to.” Clarke is smiling at her shyly and Lexa feels her stomach swoop at the sight, unable to stop herself leaning against Clarke’s side.

She peels away the wrapping paper more carefully than the kids, keeping it as intact as possible and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth when she carefully extracts the knitted jumper from the gaudy paper.

“What is this?” She gives Clarke a curious, bemused glance and turns to watch the kids pull out their own jumpers in turn.

“I ordered them off the internet,” Clarke is blushing, her eyes fixed on unwrapping the small gift in her lap and pulling out a tiny version of the same jumper. “I just thought it would be funny and … and kind of cute, we could all match. Like a family.”

“I love it,” Lexa upons the sweater up to admire the blue and white pattern, the penguins skating across the scene. “They’re so cute Clarke, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Clarke is still blushing,helping Miya wriggle into hers. “I- I have one too.”

“Good,” Lexa stands, holding out a hand to help Clarke back to her feet and pulls her in for a tight hug, arms wrapping around her waist and face buried in the cloud of sweet smelling golden curls. “You’re part of this family too.”

The beam on Clarke’s face almost makes her swoon.

“We have a present for you too!” Miya scrambles to her feet and Lexa disentangles herself from Miya to look down at her in surprise, her brows creasing.

“You do?” She glances curiously at Clarke, but the blonde looks equally nonplussed and they are ushered to the couch as Aden digs under the tree.

The gift is deposited in Lexa’s lap, heavy and a little awkwardly wrapped in places. There is a label on the top and she recognises Aden’s neat handwriting.

“To Aunty Lexa and Clarke,” She reads and feels Clarke’s soft intake of breath next to her. “Thank you for a great Christmas, lots of love Aden, Miya and Tris.” She can feel a well of emotion rising in her chest, choking her with tears and she reaches over to smile at Tris in Clarke’s lap. “I bet you picked all of this out huh?”

Clarke laughs and Aden gives an uncertain chuckle, but Miya pouts, stomping her foot.

“No! It was me and Aden, Raven just said we had to put Tris on there.”

“Ah,” Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up, “Raven helped you?”

Miya looks guilty and Aden glares at her. “You weren’t meant to say!”

“Sorry,” Miya chews on her lip and Lexa steps in before it escalates into a Christmas day row.

“Don’t worry, we’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, okay?” At Aden’s sullen nod, she plays with a seam in the wrapping. “Can we open it?”

“Yeah!” Miya bounces up to her side excitedly, watching her. “Open it, open it.”

Carefully, Lexa slides her fingers under the corner seam, glancing at Clarke, whose hands are full with the baby in her lap. At her encouraging nod, she pulls the paper apart to reveal a dark brown bound book, the word _Photograph Album_ in gold italics on the front.

“Wow,” She hesitates, surprised and looks up at the eager children’s faces. “Kids…” Lexa opens up the front page and a burst of laughter escapes her at the picture waiting for them. It’s a selfie Clarke had taken in the first few days of living with them; they’re sat on the living room floor, pizza sauce around their mouths and they’re all beaming happily at the screen.

“Oh my god, where did you get this picture?” Clarke is laughing, leaning her head against Lexa’s shoulder to look.

“From Santa,” Aden answers smartly, grinning when Clarke sticks her tongue out playfully at her.

Lexa turns the next page reverently, the emotion in her chest cresting in waves at each new picture. Her, Clarke and Tris at the zoo, pulling faces at the parrots; Aden and Miya playing with Comet when he was only a puppy; Clarke stood in the middle of her bedroom, covered in paint. One sitting centre stage of a page: her, Miya, Aden, Tris and Anya months before Anya went to prison, beaming in the sunlight.

“Lex, it’s okay,” She doesn’t realise she’s crying until Clarke’s fingers tangle with hers and squeeze softly.

“Aunty Lexa, what’s wrong?” Aden looks anxious, edging closer to peer at her and Miya’s lower lip trembles.

“Don’t you like it?”

“I love it,” She opens her arms and her family clamber into them eagerly, letting her wrap them in her embrace, pulling them tight as if she can keep them safe in her arms forever. Clarke’s lips press softly to her cheek, kissing away her tears and Lexa feels so blissfully happy.

\---

They reveal the swingset to the kids an hour or so before dusk. Lexa insists that they are all piled into their warmest coats, hats and gloves before they go out and play, even though the sun is shining and the day is quite mild. Tris has been put down for a nap and Lexa bustles around the kitchen, one eye on the children playing outside and the other on cleaning up the remnants of their Christmas dinner. It is warm inside, the windows are slightly steamed and she is comfortably floaty on the various drinks Clarke has been gently plying her with all day. Christmas songs play from her phone and she is distracted enough that she doesn’t notice Clarke until two arms slide around her waist.

She jolts in surprise and turns in her arms, eyes creasing but smiling.

“Hi,” Clarke is smiling back at her, squeezing softly at her hips. “This okay?”

“More than okay,” Lexa lets her arms slide around Clarke’s neck and dips her head to press their lips together briefly. Clarke tastes of spearmint and gin and her lips are so soft that Lexa feels she could get lost in them.

“I have a present for you,” Clarke whispers against her lips and Lexa pulls back to look at her, sighing softly when their lips are separated.

“We said no presents,” She reprimands, then after a beat, “but I got you one too.”

Clarke laughs, nudging her as she rolls her eyes. “Then I guess we both broke the rules.”

“I guess,” Lexa shrugs guiltlessly, stealing one last kiss before saying. “Let me grab it, it’s under the tree.”

Clarke nods and when Lexa returns she finds her playing nervously with the ribbon on a gift sat on the kitchen table. It’s a little bigger than a piece of A4 paper, as thick as her fingers and she eyes in curiously as she sets her own present down beside it, a small box.

“Shall we open them now?” Clarke hesitates, her fingers stilling over her gift to look at Lexa.

“Okay,” Lexa pulls her present closer, making a show of fiddling with the ribbons but actually watching Clarke rip into her gift from across the table. She’s barely slid the ribbon away when Clarke pauses at the sight of the jewellery box.

“Lexa,” She sounds cautious, but excited, “You didn’t spend a lot of money did you?”

“No,” Lexa lies after a moment of silence and Clarke eyes her like she doesn’t believe her, but pulls off the lid to look down at the silver infinity necklace nestled in soft crushed velvet and her mouth drops open in surprise.

“Lexa… it’s beautiful.”

Lexa can feel her cheeks heating and her eyes flicker down to watch her thumb play with the corner of the wrapping paper again. “I just… it’s um, it’s meant to represent y’know… forever or whatever and I don’t want you to feel like you have to but… I wanted you to know that whatever happens with us you’ll always be a part of this family.”

“Thank you,” Clarke is suddenly beside her and, hands around her neck dragging her down and Lexa barely manages to catch herself against the edge of the table as Clarke presses a soft, tender kiss to her lips. “Thank you,” She repeats, pulling away to look up at Lexa, and Lexa is shocked to see that there are tears in her eyes. “I love it.”

The words almost trip from Lexa’s tongue, so close that she almost bites her lips in an effort to stop herself and for a moment tension hangs between them, before Lexa turns back to the gift left on the table and says, awkwardly.

“Can I open this?”

“Of course,” She doesn’t miss the way that Clarke brushes away the tears at the corners of her eyes. “It’s… not that good but-”

Lexa has already pulled away the wrapping paper, casting her a small, reassuring smile as she does and she frowns at the back of the canvas in her hands.

“Turn it over,” Clarke provides, laughter in her voice and Lexa flushes again.

The canvas is covered with what she thinks might be oil paints, the colours bright and happy and Lexa stares at it. The picture is one from the photo album Aden and Miya had given them, clearly painted from a reference. It’s of all five of them in the park, even the puppy makes an appearance trying to squirm his way out of Clarke’s arms. The fall sunshine brightens all of their faces and they are breathless and beaming after a game of soccer. In the background the leaves are just beginning the change colour and Clarke has an arm slung around Lexa’s shoulders, the puppy clasped in her other one. Miya lounges against Lexa’s side, Tris held in Lexa’s lap and Aden is kneeling between them all, the soccer ball under his arm. They look like any other family at the park, happy and windswept and _together_.

“I… it was a bit of a rushed job,” Clarke’s voice is stilted and awkward next to her and Lexa tears her eyes away from the painting to see the blonde shifting uncomfortably. “It’s nowhere near as expensive as the necklace, I just-”

“Clarke,” She leaves the painting on the table to sweep Clarke up in her arms, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Clarke’s cheeks flush again and her fingers come up to cradle Lexa’s cheeks softly. Their kiss this time is so tender that Lexa almost melts into Clarke’s embrace, their bodies soft and pliant against each other. It feels more like a confession than a kiss, their walls crumbling and she’s never felt so close to another person. Her hands hold Clarke gently, as if she is the most precious thing in the world. Kissing Clarke, holding her, is as easy as breathing.

“Ew.”

The sound of disgust tears them rudely back to reality and they stagger away from each other, turning to see Miya and Aden watching from the doorway, letting in a blast of cold air with them.

“That was gross,” Aden wrinkles his nose, sliding past his sister to open the fridge and pull out a can of soda. Miya is tilting her head curiously at them.

“Were you kissing Aunty Lexa?” She asks Clarke and Lexa sees Clarke struggle for words for a moment before settling on a strangled:

“Yes?”

“Oh,” Miya seems to think about this for a moment, before nodding to herself. “Okay.”

“Miya- Aden, wait.” Lexa collars the boy before he can disappear into the living room and he stops reluctantly. “Just, sit down for a second okay?”

“Do we have to?” Aden groans from the doorway.

“Yes.” Clarke answers firmly and Lexa gives her a grateful smile, sliding in the seat opposite the two of them. Clarke sits beside her and they exchange an anxious glance, wondering who should start this conversation, before Lexa finally gathers her courage and begins.

“Clarke and I… we’re going to start seeing each other. Start dating.”

“Okay,” Aden plays with his soda can, looking longingly to the living room. “Cool.”

“We just wanted to make sure you guys were okay with that?”

“What does it mean?” Miya inquires, cocking her head, “Will Clarke go away again?”

“No,” Clarke rushes to reassure her, “It just means we might start kissing each other. And sometimes we might go out together in the evening. But it doesn’t mean we love you any less, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Aden rolls his eyes, “Raven said you guys needed to start dating.”

“She _what_?”

“Who will babysit us when you go out?” Miya asks seriously.

“Maybe… Raven?” At Lexa’s dark look, Clarke quickly corrects herself. “Or Octavia and Lincoln? If they can.”

“Oh,” Miya’s face brightens, “Okay!”

“So… you don’t mind? Either of you?” Lexa’s eyes dart between them and Aden huffs.

“ _No_ , now can we please go and watch The Grinch? We’re missing it!”

“O-Okay,” Lexa watches him shoot off his seat, nonplussed and Miya swings herself down from her seat, methodically peeling off her mittens and scarf to drape over the back of her chair. “Miya? You don’t mind either do you?”

Miya shakes her head happily, hesitating to look between them both. “Aunty Lexa, Clarke makes you very happy.” She says simply, before skipping off to join her brother in the living room.

Lexa stares after her, shocked and so happy that she feels as if she’s about to go numb. Clarke’s fingers nestles against hers and she automatically twines them together, turning to look when Clarke rests against her side. She’s looking up at Lexa with wide, shining eyes, full lips pulled up into a perfectly content smile.

“You make me very happy as well.” Clarke tells her softly and tugs on her hand. “Come on, we should join them before they start arguing.”

Lexa nods silently and lets Clarke lead her through the living room, where she can curl up on the couch with Clarke nestled against one side, Miya up against the other and Aden sat on the floor in front of them, safe and warm with her family.

 _Fin_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your support, I've loved writing this so much it's been amazing to watch you guys enjoy reading it! 
> 
> There WILL be more of this story! I'd love to write one shots in this universe and maybe.... even a sequel? If you guys want that or have anything you'd like to see in a one shot please let me know either here or on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know below or over on tumblr what you thought, I'd love to get some sort of dialogue going so hmu with any headcanon requests! thank you for reading <3


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